Recovery
by nikkithedead
Summary: After the true nature of their sexually abusive relationship is revealed, Kurt and Finn are still both a long way away from a full recovery. It's an uphill struggle, but it's one they both must face. Sequel to "Lover's Tale"
1. Prologue: Looking Up

Prologue: Looking Up

* * *

Finn wandered into the main room, and went over to the TV area. The boy named Michael who Paige had said smelled like feet was still sitting there, staring at the screen. It didn't look as though he'd moved at all. Someone was lying upside down on the other side of the couch, their feet slung over the back and their head on the cushion.

"What are you doing?" Finn asked. Paige looked up when he spoke and smiled, rolling herself off the couch.

"Watching the TV upside makes it less easy to tell how much it sucks." She explained. He nodded as though that made any sense.

"You weren't at breakfast this morning. I looked for you." He said.

"I eat breakfast a bit later cuz I feel nauseous in the morning. So first thing, I have my therapy appointment, and then I go eat oatmeal."

"The oatmeal looked lumpy." He muttered.

Paige shrugged. "I like the lumps." She teetered back and forth on the balls of her feet, and he wondered if it was physically possible for her to stay still. "So how do you like it here?" She asked.

"I dunno...I'm still figuring things out." He wanted to fiddle with something while he spoke, but his fingers were still too numb, so instead he just wiggled them a little at his sides. "Sheila wasn't very helpful. So far I've figured out what checks are, that's pretty obvious, but she said I was on level one and I don't know what that means, or why everyone else gets clothes but me. And why do only some people get knives?"

"Oh, everyone here has a level based on how crazy they think you are," Paige explained. "It decides everything, from how often your checks are, to your everyday privileges like being able to eat with a knife. They're are four levels, everyone starts out one, duh, and you can work your way up. Only level fours get knives." She smiled widely, obliviously loving being the knowledgeable one. "And no one gets clothes when they first come. Clothes are a privilege. You earn them by having your first successful meeting your therapist."

"What does that mean?" He asked.

"When people come here they're usually really resentful, and they don't wanna talk to anyone. So they just sit there and brood. So they said 'fine, you can sit there and brood for as a long as you want but you're not getting your clothes until you open up a little'." She said, furrowing her brow and putting on a deep voice. "It's pretty simple, you can get your clothes today if you want, you just gotta talk about your feelings. Some people don't get their clothes for a month though. They're what I call long-haulers. Come on I'll show you around." She beamed.

Finn nodded. He was a little afraid of Paige, she had a manic unfocused energy about her that freaked him out a little, but he was curious to learn how things worked here, so he let her drag him into the next room.

"As you already know, this is where we eat food." She said, gesturing around the dining room. "It's very simple; 3 meals 3 times a day, but this room is always open and they have snacks out." The table had bags of chips, fruit and cookies on it and a blond haired boy was sitting at the end of it, cutting up a cookie and placing it neatly on his plate. Finn recognized him from the group therapy.

"That's George. He has Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Everything needs to be in 13s for him." She said. "When he's having a really bad time, he says everything 13 times so don't talk to him when he looks twitchier than usual. He's nice, but he smells like too much soap." Finn nodded, and she walked back out of the room.

"Ok, so over there watching TV is Michael. He has Intermittent Explosive Disorder."

"That's what I have." He blurted. Paige nodded.

"Yeah but yours is probably more sexual. Michael likes to destroy things. When he gets mad he throws chairs and topples things and stuff. If you sit too close to him, he might pinch you. As was previously mentioned, he smells like feet."

"I didn't smell feet." Finn said. "It was more like a gross burp smell."

Paige shook her head. "No way. Put on some woolly socks, run 3 miles, take off your shoes and socks and smell your feet. You will be smelling the pungent odor of Michael." She insisted.

"Ok…

"Now over there, that's Lina. She's sort of like our Daisy, minus the chicken." She continued, pointing to a very pretty brown haired girl reading in a corner. She turned to him with a very serious look on her face. "Stay away from her, ok?"

"Ok...why?"

"Her uncle raped her repeatedly when she was 13, and now she's a has OCD as well. It's different from George, instead of obsessing about cleaning or 13's, she obsesses about sex and engages in it in a compulsive fashion. Don't sit near her, don't look at her and do not talk to her. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it." He mumbled. She poked him in the rib cage.

"I'm serious Finn." She warned.

"Ok, I'll stay away from her." He said, holding his hands up. In a second, the huge smile was back on her face.

"Hey look at that!" She said, and poked his hand. "You're holding 'em up straight. That's great!" Then she skipped across the room, gesturing for him to follow. She showed him around, telling him about the orderlies and other patients, and explaining their systems.

"At level one you gotta have some watch you shower, but don't worry they give you a bathing suit if you want it, and you can pick if you want a male or female orderly." She explained.

"How do you move up a level?" He asked.

"Being good, going to group therapy and talking, talking to your therapist, getting a long with the other patients, not freaking out and trying to kill anyone. I'm level two, and I got 15 minute checks." She said proudly.

"What do you do in therapy?"

"Mostly you talk about whatever you did, how you felt when you did it, why you did it, how you feel in general." She bobbed her head as she spoke, as though agreeing with what she was saying.

"How's that different from group?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. Most people like the one on one, and your therapist gives you more actual advice. Group is mostly just to simulate the social experience. You go and talk with the other peoples...the general idea is that talking about it will help you get better."

"I can't get better..." He mumbled, and sat down at one of the tables.

"Sure you can. You'll talk about why you raped your brother and they'll figure out how you can not do it again." She said cheerfully.

He thought about trying to explain why he'd done it to someone. He could talk about the fog...but the fog didn't _make_ him do it, it just let him. He couldn't explain why he'd done it.

He noticed Paige was still babbling about...something, and every now and then he caught the words "rape" and "brother" and he decided he should probably tell her the truth.

"He was my step-brother, actually."

"See, there you go!" Paige cheered. It wasn't the reaction he'd been expecting. "A minute ago you had raped your brother, and now it's only your step-brother. You're improving already!"

He wondered what a strange world Paige's mind must be.

* * *

Kurt held himself down under the water in his bath tub, and opened his eyes under water. He stared up at the ceiling of the bathroom, enjoying how slow and distorted everything looked from down there. He held his breath for as long as possible, then allowed himself to float up, breaking the surface with a deep breath.

He lay back against the tile, thinking about his week.

There was the incident in Finn's room, and he knew that wasn't good, but he'd been able to keep himself from a repeat performance. He didn't know for how much longer he could though; the needing desire was already beginning to seep back into his chest.

His Dad had gotten in touch with a new therapist for him, one dealing with sexual disorders and he was going to see her on Monday.

It was after school on Friday now, and Blaine was coming over again. He wondered if Blaine considered what they were doing dating. Usually they would watch a movie, kiss a little, and find something in the house to eat. He knew Blaine wanted to go out, but for some reason, life just seemed more exhausting outside.

After his bath he got dressed, throwing on some skinny jeans and a sweater. Because his closet was made up almost entirely of brand name and designer items, he could basically pick anything and no one would be able to tell that he hardly cared anymore. It wasn't that he didn't want to look good, he did and especially for Blaine...but fashion just didn't hold that same appeal for him anymore.

He tried to remember that excited giddy feeling he used to have whenever he picked out an outfit and then accessorized, but it was nothing more than a distant memory now.

Now he had more important things on his mind.

He went downstairs and found Carole and his Dad sitting on the couch, holding each other. Carole had fallen asleep in his Dads arms, and his Dad was absently stroking her hair. He felt like crying when he saw them like that, out of pure relief.

He had been sure that when they found out, that would be it for them. But they still loved each other, and he knew his Dad was trying his damnedest not to blame Carole for Finn's actions.

He went over to his father, and poked him. His Dad turned and smiled. "Hey, is Blaine coming over?" Kurt nodded.

"Are you two..." Burt began. Kurt shrugged.

"I don't know...we haven't discussed an official thing yet." He didn't want to jinx it by saying he hoped they would discuss it tonight. After everything Blaine had said and done recently, he didn't think he could handle anymore ambiguity.

The door bell rang just then, and Carole shot up with a start. Kurt guess that despite how peaceful she seemed while she was asleep, her dreams had been less than pleasant.

Kurt opened the door and smiled. Blaine was dressed in his regular clothes and he looked like he'd used half the usual amount of hair gel.

"Well, don't we look nice." He said, and Blaine smiled and came inside.

"Yeah, I think I heard my hair gel actually breathe a sigh of relief when I got dressed." He joked.

Kurt took him by the hand and began to lead him upstairs, but stopped when his Dad made a loud "AHEM" noise.

"We're just going to watch a movie..." He said quietly. Blaine nodded earnestly.

His Dad sighed. "The door stays open the whole time and I reserve the right to come in and check you at any time and without notice, got it?"

They nodded and ran upstairs.

"Your Dad kind of freaks me out." Blaine said, running his hands through his hair. "So what movie are we going to watch?"

"Movie?" Kurt said, hoping he sounded coy. He walked towards him and wrapped his arms around his neck.

Blaine smiled and kissed him. "I actually sort of wanted to talk to you about something..." He murmured.

"Yeah, what?" He asked, tilting his head inquisitively. _Please want to have sex with me, please want to have sex with me..._

"Well...uh...sit down." He said. Kurt sat down on the edge of his bed. "Ok..well, I've been thinking about this for a while and I mean, I don't want to freak you out, and I mean if its not ok then we can just forget it..." He said, and he took a seat next to Kurt. "You've probably seen this coming, I mean we've been hanging out a lot and what with me telling you I loved you..." He smiled nervously. Kurt had to admit, he kind of liked see Blaine so nervous. He was usually so composed. It was a nice change. "?"

"Excuse me?" He asked.

Blaine closed his eyes and he took a deep breath. "Kurt, I care about you a lot. More than is probably healthy. And I've been putting off doing this because I didn't want to overwhelm you but...I want to date you."

"Isn't that what we're doing now?" Kurt asked. He knew drawing this out was mean but it was fun too.

"Yes, we are but...I want something official. Something where I can say 'This my boyfriend, Kurt Hummel' and 'No I'm sorry, I'm busy Friday night because I have a date with my boyfriend.' And I don't know, that might seem silly to you but...it's important to me." He said quietly.

"Ok." Kurt said, taking Blaine's hand.

"Really?" Blaine asked. "I mean. Good. Yes."

"So...can we be kissing now?" Kurt asked. Blaine smiled and kissed him, opening his mouth wide and slipping his tongue into his mouth.

_Finally..._


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

* * *

...ONE MONTH LATER...

* * *

Kurt felt like his head was spinning. He couldn't breathe. It had to be a mistake.

He rushed out of the classroom and down the hallway towards the senior common room. Blaine was supposed to meet him there for lunch and he needed to talk to him immediately. He ran down the hallway trying to keep from crying and was relieved to see he was already waiting for him. Before Blaine could say anything, Kurt threw himself in his arms.

"I can't believe it, oh my god, Blaine." Kurt gasped.

"What happened?" Blaine asked, trying to stop Kurt's shaking.

He moved out of his arms and shook the papers he was holding in his face. "I got a fucking A+ on my french test!" He squealed. Blaine smiled widely.

"Of course you did, we spent 10 million years studying for it. I never even studied that hard when _I_ was in that class." He said. Kurt squealed again and kissed Blaine excitedly on the mouth.

They'd been dating officially for a month now, and although things hadn't exactly been perfect, Blaine was patient and understanding. He'd held Kurt when he cried, and talked to him when he was lonely. He told him he was beautiful when he felt disgusting, and helped him work through his problems when he felt like shutting down and hiding.

Things weren't perfect, but more and more Kurt thought he could feel bits of his old self returning.

They walked towards the cafeteria together and Kurt told Blaine for the 50th time how he had been sure he was going to fail.

"Well then, this calls for a celebration." Blaine said grandly. "Friday night, your house. City of Lost Children?" He said, raising his eyebrows. "It's French."

Kurt frowned. Movies had become dangerous lately. "I dunno..."

"Look, the main characters are an older russian guy and a 12 year old girl. No chance for romance, I promise." Blaine said.

Kurt raised his eyebrow. "Have you seen Lolita?"

Blaine made puppy dogs eyes at him and Kurt tried not to care. He had found that he had developed an extreme aversion to movies with romance in them. He didn't know why, but he couldn't enjoy them any more. He felt contempt for the on screen lovers, and resented their good looks and simple affairs. He'd lost the taste for a few of the musicals he had used to love because of this. Kurt sighed.

"Ok, fine but the moment some decidedly average yet extremely good looking guy confesses his undying love for a beautiful yet uniquely quirky french girl, I'm done." He said. Blaine nodded.

* * *

"Ok, so see then she was all 'O.M.G I totes don't like Jake Ryan he's lame' but then he was all sweet so then she did like him, and they kissed but then he had to leave for 6 months and she was all "W.T.F!" and now he's back." Paige explained, as they sat on the floor in front of the television.

Over the past month, he had been spending most of his time with Paige. Even so, he still didn't have her all figured out. Not at all. For example, she had an odd obsession with the TV shows on the Disney channel, and he still couldn't figure out if she was being serious or not.

Half the time he didn't know what she was saying, though he had figured out that the things that didn't make sense where usually references to movies or books. Usually.

Most of the time she was bouncing off the walls and talking a mile a minute but he had discovered that she had another side as well.

Some people had bad days, days when they were slow or angry or in a general funk. Paige had those too, but her bad days travelled in groups.

For days she would lie around, not speaking and barely eating. Her eyes grew unfocused and she was unresponsive. It had taken Finn a little while to adjust to this, but he was beginning to get the hang of dealing with Paige when she was down. It was pretty simple, actually. He would just sit with her, reading or watching TV while she lay there. At first he hadn't been sure she'd been aware of his presence when she was like that, but she had let him know later how much she appreciated his company.

In return, Paige didn't hold it against him when he screamed and smashed his fists against the walls in frustration, or spent all day in his room jerking off and crying.

"What about Lilly?" Finn asked, returning his attention the the TV.

"No one cares about her." Paige said.

"This show fucking sucks." Michael said. Patricia giggled. "Shut the fuck up Patricia."

"That's not very nice." Paige chided. Patricia giggled again. "Shut the fuck up Patricia."

"Paige!" Finn said. Paige hardly ever swore.

"She ripped the head off my doll..." Paige mumbled.

"The Comedian_ told_ me to. I said I was sorry." Patricia insisted. Paige glared and stood up.

"Let's go." She said, walking away. Finn scrambled after her.

They walked over to the other side of the room. "I hate her..."

"You hate everyone here." Finn said.

Paige shrugged. "Maybe...come on, the girls dorm just got new porn, lets go look at it." She said cheerfully, and bounced away.

"Why do the girls get new porn?" Finn whined, following Paige. "We're still stuck with Playboys from the 70's and I've discovered that women were hairier back then." He shuddered.

* * *

"So now he's coming over on Friday and we're going to watch a french film to celebrate, and he_ says _there's no romance but we'll see." Kurt finished telling his therapist about his day at school, and he waited for her to say something insightful.

"What are the odds he'll agree to fool around with you then?" She asked, tapping her pen against her chin. He rolled his eyes.

"Slim to not going to happen." He mumbled. He still couldn't believe this was an average conversation for them. His Dad had spoken to several doctors about seeing him, and Dr. Claudia Step had been the most recommend. He knew she was theoretically great at what she did, but he still couldn't get over how different she was from Dr. Sincere.

"Have you approached the subject recently?" She asked, leaning back in her chair.

"Define 'approach'." He said slowly.

"Talked to him about the possibility of safely practicing mutually beneficial sexual activities together, in a mature and calm manner." She said, narrowing her eyes.

"Oh...well then no." He mumbled.

"What did you do?"

"Well, we were kissing and I might have undone his belt buckle and stuck my hand down his pants." He said, looking away. She sighed.

"Smooth. How did he react?" She asked, her eyebrows raised.

"The usual 'this is too fast I don't want you to do something you'll regret you're special to me blah blah blah I use too much gel.'"

"Yes, the mature thing to do is make fun of his hair and ignore what he's saying, even though his desire for romance would be extremely helpful to your emotional healing process. Just continue throwing yourself at him I'm sure it will go swell. " She replied.

"Good, I will." he said stubbornly.

"Kurt, we both know you have a very aggressive sexual appetite-" She began.

"I hate it when you say that." He grumbled.

"A very aggressive sexual appetite," She repeated.

"Whose mature now?"

"_But,_ unless you learn to satisfy this appetite in a healthy way you'll never get better. You need to learn to think about sex in a sensual and romantic way as opposed to something about dominance and pain."

"I don't!" He protested.

"Yeah? What were you thinking about the last time you masturbated?" She asked.

The first time she'd asked that (ok, the first dozen times), he'd blushed and refused to answer. After a while he'd opened up...for some reason her extreme frankness had made it seem less awkward. Unfortunately, he now had a problem recognizing boundaries in normal conversation.

"I was thinking about...Brad Pitt from Fight Club." He said firmly.

"Yeah, what was he doing?" She pressed.

"Having sex with George Clooney from From Dusk Till Dawn." He replied.

"Who was on top?" She shot back.

"Umm..."

"Ha!"

"Fine, I was thinking about Finn. Are you happy now?" He snapped.

"No, Kurt that doesn't make me happy. Your experience with Finn cannot continue to be your only model of sexuality. Sex can be a great experience, as long as its consensual and practiced safely. Talk to Blaine. _Talk._ With words." She instructed.

"He won't have sex." He insisted.

"I don't want you to be thinking about anal sex right now anyways, Kurt. I agree that's not something your ready for. Approach the subject of oral sex, or consider mutual or shared masturbation."

"Can't you find a term a bit sexier than 'mutual masturbation'? That's disgusting." He cringed.

She rolled her eyes again. "Talk to Blaine about giving you a hand-job!" She shouted. "Better?

* * *

"Eduardo advanced towards Lillian and swept her up in his strong arms, cradling her in them as his mouth attacked her breasts in a passionate and untamed frenzy." Paige read, her voice strong and deep.

"_Oh, Eduardo take me now!_" Finn read, making his voice high.

"Eduardo lay Lillian down on the bed, spreading her brown thighs far apart to reveal the sweet oasis between them. '_I'm going to make such sweet love to you, you'll forget about all those years the evil Duke had you locked in that bell tower_' He said, before plunging his manhood deep into her begging sex-"

"Paige! Finn! What the fuck are you doing?" Sheila shouted, barging into the room. They both jumped and Paige threw down the book they were reading, titled "Passion in the Bell Tower."

"Nothing. We were doing nothing." Finn said quickly.

"First of all, _you_ are not supposed to be in the girls dorm. Second of all, this is to be used exclusively to satisfy your own_ personal _needs at a private time." Sheila said, picking up the book.

"How can we use it in private, we have orderlies coming in every 10 minutes!" Finn said, getting off Paige's floor.

"I get 15." She reminded him, reaching up her hand for help. He pulled her up and glared at her.

"You don't masturbate, remember." He grumbled.

"Yes but if I did I'm sure I could do it in under 15 minutes, so its nice to have the option." She said.

"You, out!" Sheila said, pointing at Finn. "You...get out also." She fumed.

"Whatever, it's time for group anyways." Paige said, skipping out of the room. Originally they had been in different groups, but the staff had noticed they were good together and switched Paige and Patricia.

That was when Patricia ripped the head off Paige's doll.

"So, everyone how are things?" Duncan asked, smiling around at them. A few people mumbled replies and looked away. George squeaked and Paige flashed him her manic smile.

"Good. Anyone have anything they want to talk about?" He asked. No one said anything, and he sighed. "Ok, I'll just start asking questions then. Finn, any bad dreams lately?"

Finn looked down. He'd had another nightmare last night and didn't want to share. Not yet.

"He did. I heard him crying and moaning the name 'Kurt'." George squeaked. He had the room next to Finn's.

"Shut up, George!" Paige snapped. George looked startled.

"It's ok Paige..." Finn mumbled.

"I'm sorry George." Paige said quickly. "Knee-jerk reaction, couldn't be helped."

"Finn, do you want to tell us about your dream?" Duncan asked gently. Finn shrugged.

"It wasn't much different from my other dreams...Kurt was there...I was..." He put his head in his hands, tears stinging his eyes. He felt a small hand lay itself on his back, comforting him. There was more to the dream, Duncan and Paige both knew that. He couldn't bring himself to say it.

"I had a dream where I was Queen of the World and you all had to bow to me or I would shoot you with my laser eyes." Young said defiantly.

Duncan sighed and turned his attention to Young, who was a compulsive liar with a flair for the dramatic.

He felt Paige take her hand off his back, and squeeze his hand reassuringly. "It was just a dream." She whispered. Finn shook his head.

"The problem is it wasn't."

* * *

**A/N: So this story should actually be classified as Hurt/Comfort/Romance/Friendship but they wouldn't let me do that. This story is going to deal with the ups and downs of Finn and Kurt's recovery. It will be more upbeat and have bits of humor in it, but it will still contain themes of sexuality and it will have its dark sexual moments.**

**In case it wasn't obvious (that's not sarcasm, I'm really not sure if this was obvious or not) the part of Finn's dream that he didn't want to share was that it was a wet dream.**


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Kurt pulled the covers tight over his bed and tucked them under the sides, making sure there were no creases. Blaine would be there soon and he was still cleaning his room. He toyed with the idea of taking Claudia's advice and talking to him but their talks about sex never went well. Usually they involved Kurt crying and Blaine holding him telling him he didn't need sex. Kurt wanted to tell him he was wrong and he did need it, but he couldn't.

Blaine wouldn't give him what he needed because he thought that eventually Kurt would move on, wouldn't feel this way anymore. The closest they ever got to doing anything was a game Blaine liked to play. They would lie down together, fully clothed, on one of their beds and Blaine would pick a body part (his hand, neck, cheek, etc). They would lie together and Blaine would softly kiss and caress that part of him, telling him everything he liked about it.

It was romantic and sensual, and at first it had frustrated Kurt to no end. They were so close but nothing was happening. It had grown on him now, and he enjoyed the attention and the feeling of Blaine's soft lips, but he still wasn't getting what he needed.

So instead he satisfied himself, imaging it was Finn's hands that were pulling at him, hurting him and making him cry. If he could, he would sneak into Finn's room to do it. He knew it was wrong, and sick...but without the pain, he couldn't climax.

The doorbell rang and Kurt bounded down the stairs, and let Blaine in. Carole and his Dad had gone out to get Chinese food for dinner, and they would have about a half an hour before they returned with the food.

They went upstairs, and Blaine told him about a boy in the Warbler's named Kevin who was thinking of forming a band. "That's pretty cool, huh?"

Kurt nodded. He was used to this by now, every other day Blaine seemed to have another Warbler or classmate to introduce him to, or talk about. He didn't know why, and generally he had trouble caring.

He could hear Blaine talking, and he wanted to listen but he couldn't seem to pull himself out of his mind. It was for this reason, that when Blaine came up to him and placed his hand on his shoulder, he reacted instantly and without thinking; he sunk to his knees.

How often had Finn signaled he wanted something by doing the same thing, just placing a hand on his shoulder or hip? It was a simple gesture and in their time together, Kurt had grown to know what it meant well; I want you, now.

But Blaine wasn't Finn, and he didn't want that. He realized a second too late. It was done, he was on his knees and embarrassment flooded his whole body. He wanted to shake and cry and run away from Blaine, but he was frozen. He couldn't look up, couldn't bear to see the pitying look on Blaine's face.

He waited in agonizing silence for Blaine to tell him to get up, that he didn't want that and Kurt was making a fool of himself again.

But Blaine didn't say that. Instead, he sunk to his knees too.

When Blaine's gaze appeared back at his eye level, then Kurt began to cry. Blaine put his arms around him and kissed him, lying him back on the floor and moving his legs out from under him. He kept himself pressed closely to him, lying almost half on top of him. He brushed the tears of Kurt's face, a gesture that was all too familiar to them both, and whispered that he loved him.

They lay together, kissing sweetly on the floor, and no thoughts of Finn entered his mind. Kurt had never been more grateful to anyone then he was to Blaine at that moment.

* * *

"I'm logging information for the FBI, who uses me as an undercover spy in order to gain access to a covert drug ring." Young said.

They were doing an activity that Duncan called "Free Questions" and Paige called "intrusive and unnecessary." Finn had to agree with her.

The idea was they could ask each other questions basically about anything. Young's question was "What are you always writing in your notebook?"

If they answered the question honestly (something that was difficult in Young's case) they were given points in the form of small smiley faced stickers. They could get points in other ways too, helping out around, behaving properly, taking their medication without fuss and if they gained enough points within the month, they either got moved up a level, or a "privilege." A privilege meant they could ask for something they wanted (with in reason). This month, Paige had used her privilege to gain access to a large sketchbook and charcoals.

Finn was extremely bored right now. Paige was down today, and was sitting deathly still next to him, clutching her knees to her chest. Her black hair was covering her face, and she hadn't made a sound or moved since they'd sat down. Finn hated seeing her like this, and what's more when she wasn't there to cheer him up, he felt even worse than usual. Right now he was praying no one would ask him anything.

"So, George can ask a question next." Duncan said, and Young pouted.

George turned to him. "Finn, why do you cry when you masturbate?" George asked. Finn sighed. He knew it was only natural for George to be curious, since he could probably hear everything Finn did, but sometimes he just wished he would mind his own goddamned business.

"I don't...always. Only when..." He closed his eyes. It was easier to say if he couldn't see the others. "Only when I think about...him." He opened his eyes, and George was nodding.

"Kurt?" He asked quietly. Finn nodded. "Why do you do it then? Think about him, I mean."

"George, Finn's answered your question." Duncan said.

"It's ok..." Finn said quietly. "I think about him because I can't help it. I don't want to, and I stop myself when I can because I know it's wrong...but sometimes I just can't. Something in me still needs him, even if I don't want him."

His hand was on the floor next to Paige, and he felt her move her hand over his. She didn't move in any other way, or make a sound, she just slid her hand on top of his, and he was grateful.

* * *

"Kurt, you need to stop this." Claudia said sternly. Kurt leaned his head back against his chair, squeezing a pink stress ball in his hand.

"I know..." He said quietly. He had just finished telling her about the incident with Blaine on Friday.

"You're only hurting yourself, and it's got to be hurting Blaine too. It's not fair to him. You've told me before that he makes you feel beautiful, right?" Kurt nodded, blushing.

"Well he can only do that if you let him. What you're doing right now isn't right. You have these strong sexual urges and you're so determined not to acknowledge them that you just let them build up and fester inside of you, making you feel needy and disgusting. And then instead of releasing them in a healthy and pleasurable way, you get yourself off on memories of pain and suffering. And you tell yourself that that's enough, what you're doing with yourself is enough. But it isn't. Why do you think you keep throwing yourself at Blaine like this? Your subconscious is telling you what it wants. It doesn't want these hurtful memories of Finn, it _wants_ to move on. But you need to let it."

Kurt shifted around in his chair. He was feeling a mix of emotions, chief among them sadness and discomfort. Discomfort because he hated it when she said things "sexual urges" and "pleasurable".

Sadness because it was true. He didn't _want_ to turn to Finn anymore. He didn't want to need him. It wasn't fair. He shouldn't have to feel like this. He tightened his grip on the stress ball in his hand, feeling his anger grow inside him spreading to his finger tips like a cancer. He whiped the stress ball across the room, where it knocked over a lamp.

Claudia looked at the lamp, then back at him, sobbing and fuming in his chair. "That was good." She said sarcastically. He gave her the middle finger.

"I'm sorry to be harsh Kurt, but you need to realize that you're the only one who can fix this."

"Bull_shit_." He screamed. "I can't do anything! It's like I've been programmed to be this fucking pervert and I can't do anything about it." He put his head in his hands. "It's not fair. It was only a few _months_. That shouldn't have been able to change who I was."

"It doesn't work like that, Kurt." She said softly. "It was a traumatic experience and it's had a big impact on you. But it isn't who you are. You need to talk to Blaine about this stuff, and not only when you've bottled everything up for so long that you do something drastic and regrettable and then sob in his arms. You need to talk to him about it calmly and explain that these urges aren't just going to go away. You can't ignore them. They need to be dealt with, but they need to be dealt with right."

"I can't." Kurt said, shaking his head. "Blaine's like...he's _Blaine_. He's wholesome and pure and beautiful and fucking perfect, and I'm just this disgusting little pervert sex addict."

"You are no where close to be a sex addict or a pervert, trust me, I see those daily." She said. "You're urges don't make you disgusting, their natural and they can be healthy if you dealt with them in a healthy way. What you're doing now, how your dealing with them, that's what's making you feel disgusting."

"...If you say urges one more time, I may scream." He said quietly, wishing he hadn't thrown the stress ball away.

She sighed. "Please talk to Blaine, Kurt. From what you've told me, he sounds caring and understanding. He wants to help you. You need to sit down with him and calmly explain how he can do that. Now, there is the chance that he just isn't ready to peruse sex yet which is fine, and something you two can work on together. Start slowly and become comfortable with each other. Does that sound like something you can do?"

Kurt took a deep breath and nodded.

"Good." She smiled, and then narrowed her eyes wickedly. "Also, urges."

* * *

Paige lay along the couch, her face down on the cushion and her arms positioned stiffly at her sides. She hadn't moved in 30 minutes. Michael had come by 10 minutes ago and had begun to pinch her, telling her to get the fuck of his seat. Finn had been able to get him to leave in a fairly peaceful manner, merely standing up and letting Michael realize how Finn towered over him. He had left quietly.

Finn was back to sitting in front of the couch, leaning back on it and watching "Buffy the Vampire Slayer". It was another favorite of Paige's, and the hospital had all 7 seasons on DVD. He kept hoping the familiar jokes and sounds would snap her out of it, but by know he knew it really didn't work that way. So he waited.

"Still hasn't moved, eh?" Duncan said, coming over and taking a seat next to Finn. He shook his head. "I want to talk to you about group today Finn."

"George asked me a question and I just answered it. I'm sorry if it was inappropriate." He grumbled.

Duncan smiled. "Finn there is no inappropriate in group. The point of it is to be able to discuss your issues in an open forum. And I wanted to say I was proud of how you handled George's question today."

Finn widened his eyes in surprise. He had talked about crying while masturbating to mental images of raping his step-brother and he was_ proud _of him? "Are you nuts?"

Duncan laughed. "Quite possibly, you know they say you have to be to work at a place like this. Ironic, isn't it?"

Finn nodded, even though to be totally honest, he'd never really understood irony. He thought he got the gist of it though.

"I'm proud of you Finn, because George asked a really sensitive question and you could have handled it a number of ways. You could have freaked out and left, you could have screamed at him, you could have refused to answer. But you reacted calmly and answered his question in the most tactful way possible. I was impressed."

Finn nodded. He hadn't thought about it like that…

"So, I've talked to your therapist and the other orderlies and they've agreed you've earned a privilege." He said cheerfully.

Finn's heart leapt at the thought. He could get new porn. Porn with women who had heard of waxing.

"Now, you should take a little time to really think about what you want. Most boy's immediately request some new porn, but after a while they find there's something they want more." Duncan said, standing up.

Finn nodded, and told him he'd think about it. Duncan left and Finn turned back to Buffy. A moment later, he heard Paige stir.

"You want the porn, don't you." Paige said quietly. Her voice was weak was hoarse.

"Yeah, sort of more than anything." He said, turning to look at her. She still looked half-dead, but if she was speaking it was a vast improvement. A small smile even appeared on her lips now.

"Perv."


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Blaine Anderson was on a mission. For the past month he had spoken to every Warbler and several of Kurt's classmates and gotten a detailed list of their interests and hobbies. At first he'd just considered what he was doing casual chatting, getting to know people. He realized now it was really more like he was conducting a series of interviews.

"What would you say your favorite hobby is?" He'd asked a dark haired boy he knew Kurt had 2 classes with. Blaine thought his name was Rich.

"Well, I like dirt biking..." Rich said slowly. Mud, extreme athletics, outdoors. Nope.

"Scale of 1 to 10, how much do you care about fashion?"

"Like negative a million." A bright eyed boy named Travis had told him, laughing. Definitely not.

"Would you say music is a big part of your life?" He asked Nick, another Warbler.

"Well, yeah. I mean, I've always had kinda a hard time telling people what I mean about stuff in like, conversation, and so music has always been this great opportunity for me to really connect with others, through the sounds and lyrics." Nick said, smiling. Nick was a possibility.

"Foreign films, huh?" Blaine said, talking to a Warbler named Jeff. Jeff was quiet, and Blaine thought that would be a good quality for Kurt to have in a friend. He didn't need someone abrasive right now.

"Yeah, I just think they have this charisma to them that a lot of American films fail to capture." Jeff said earnestly. He and Kurt had just watched City of Lost Children, and Kurt had liked it quite a bit. This could work.

Once he labeled someone a possibility, he spent some time talking to Kurt about them and gauging his reaction to their interests. If Kurt seemed in any way interested, he would make a point of introducing them and encouraging a friendship.

Dr. Sincere had said Kurt needed friends outside of Blaine, a larger support system and Blaine was going to build him one. Kurt had gotten by for the first while at Dalton only making one friend, and Blaine sometimes thought that maybe if he'd been closer to more people, something would have been done about his situation with Finn sooner. But it had all be left to him, and Blaine hadn't been able to handle it alone.

Kurt was going to make friends and connect with people, even it killed him.

* * *

Two days later, Paige was back and more manic than ever. Finn smiled as he watched her bounce excitedly up and down in her seat, saying the lines along with the actors as they watched Buffy.

"The whole summer it was, like, the worst heatwave. So, it's about 118 degrees and I'm sleepin' without a stitch on, and all of a sudden I hear this screamin' from outside. So I go tearin' out stark nude and this church bus is broke down and there's three vamps feasting on half the Baptists in South Boston. So I waste the vamps and the preacher comes up and he's hugging me like there's no tomorrow when all of a sudden the cops pull up and they arrested us both." She recited. Finn shook his head. *

The red headed orderly came up to them then, and smiled. Finn had learned by now that her name was Casey. "Someone's here to see you, Finn. Should I let her in?"

Finn nodded. Only one person ever came to see him, and that was his mother. She visited about once a weak, giving him an update on how things were going back home and making sure he was doing ok here. Sometimes she brought cookies, and Paige had immediately loved her.

"Oh, I hope she's got the kind with the M&M's in them. They're like chocolate chip only way awesomer." She said excitedly bouncing up. Finn smiled and got up as well. Suddenly, Paige stopped bouncing and grew quiet. Finn turned around, and grew quiet as well.

It wasn't his mother.

"Rachel." He said quietly. She was wearing a long blue dress, and had her hair held back with a matching barrette.

"Hello, Finn." She said quietly. She looked at Paige for a moment, and then back to him. "Can we go someplace private?"

Finn nodded, and led her to one of the private rooms. They weren't actually private, since they all had two way mirrors in them where orderlies kept an eye on you at all times, but it was away from the other patients.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner." Rachel said, sitting down on one of the plastic chairs. Finn sat across from her. "I was afraid...I thought you might have done it because of me." She looked down dramatically and Finn knew she wanted him to tell her that it wasn't about her.

He stared at her. It was all about her.

"I'm not going to lie to you Rachel, what you did messed me up." He bit his lip. That was a huge fucking understatement. "You made me hate myself, and that hate turned me into someone I can barely recognize now...but what I did, I did because of me. I thought I needed to be put down."

She looked back at him, tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Noah and I never meant to hurt you."

His skin prickled at the name. "Since when is he 'Noah'?"

"He's matured a lot Finn, and he's really sorry too. I wish you two could reconnect." She said.

"Oh, wonderful. I spiral down into a pit of...I don't know what the fuck, and he's _maturing_. That's great." He spat. He could feel his head begin to throb. Why had she come here? Was it just to hurt him? To rub it in his face how much better off she was without him?

"I didn't want to hurt you, Finn." She said quietly. He slammed his fist down on the table and she jumped.

"Bull fucking shit Rachel. You cheated on me with Puck for revenge. The whole point of it was to hurt me. You kicked me in the goddamned chest and made me feel more alone and worthless than ever. You were supposed to be different from Quinn." He shouted. "You were supposed to love me."

"This was a bad idea, I should go." Rachel said, standing up tearfully. She ran out of the room and Finn chased after her.

"Right, just run away Rachel. Run back your boyfriend Fuck." He called as she left the unit. He ground his teeth together and stormed off to his room. Paige followed him.

His head felt hazy and cold and he punched the wall in his room. The thing wall cracked and shattered around his fist, and when he pulled it back, he was bleeding.

"What happened?" Paige asked quietly. Her dark eyes were wide and concerned. Finn turned to her. He felt murky and disconnected.

He grabbed her and pinned her against the wall. She didn't flinch.

He needed contact, needed to feel something. Someone. He pressed his mouth against her, hard. Still she didn't move.

This wasn't working. Why didn't she react? He pushed her harder against the wall, and grabbed at her shirt, ripping it. Everything was grey and thick and she wasn't making it better. He was getting more and frustrated, and he pulled at her bra, tearing it and exposing a pale breast. Even as he touched her, she didn't struggle, didn't react.

"Why aren't you doing anything?" He growled. She looked at him sadly.

"Because...I know you won't hurt me." She said simply.

His mind throbbed and beat against his head and he looked at her. He wanted to beat her down and rip her to shreds, lose himself in her so he wouldn't need to feel. He turned to the side and vomited.

"It's ok, Finn." She said, coming over and putting her arm around him. She pulled her shirt around her, covering herself.

"No, it's not Paige." He sobbed, wiping the vomit from his mouth. "I...oh shit. I'm so fucking sorry."

"I forgive you." She said quietly.

"Chec- what the fuck?" Sheila shouted, bursting in on them. Paige jumped back and pointed to Finn.

"He did it." She said.

"Ah, motherfucker." Sheila said, staring at the vomit on the floor. "Get your ass to solitary." She growled.

* * *

Although they'd been difficult at first, Warblers practice were quickly becoming something resembling enjoyable. Now they were getting ready to perform at a school assembly for their anti-drug awareness week, and were practicing a song called "Kicks" by a band named Paul Revere and the Raiders. Blaine was obnoxiously proud of him for what he called "all the progress he'd made" and he was encouraging him to audition for the duet they were planning.

Although apparently Blaine had confused the word "encouraging" with "signing him to audition without his consent." When he found out he reacted...less than good.

"No fucking way." Kurt shouted, storming up to his room.

"Why not?" Blaine asked, chasing after him.

"Because I'm not getting up on stage alone." He fumed.

"But you won't be. Its a duet. That's the whole point."

"No." He said.

"But...Nick's auditioning. You like Nick." Blaine said. Kurt stared at him.

"Yeah I like Nick but I'm not auditioning."

"I'm auditioning." He said quietly. "You could sing with me."

Kurt sighed. "I just...please, Blaine. Please let this go." He had other things he wanted to talk to him about.

Blaine nodded. "Fine...but we'll be talking about this later."

Kurt nodded, and pulled Blaine over to his bed. They lay down together and Blaine put his arms around him, softly kissing his ear. It felt wonderful and Kurt hated to stop him, but if he didn't talk to him about this now, he would chicken out forever.

"Blaine...I need to talk to you." He said quietly. Blaine stopped what he was doing and looked at him.

"Yeah, what is it?" He said softly. Kurt swallowed. This was going to be hard, but Blaine needed to know.

"I still think about him." Kurt said, his voice even quieter now. "I miss him."

"Finn, do you mean?" Blaine asked, and Kurt could tell he was trying not to sound hurt.

Kurt nodded. He could feel tears coming to his eyes and he tried to keep himself calm. "Yeah. I don't want to..." He turned to look at Blaine, his voice breaking. "But I can't help it."

Blaine hugged him tighter. "What do you miss?"

"I miss...the way he used to touch me, sometimes." He gulped. That sounded so bad. "He wasn't always rough...and sometimes he would hold me. I miss that the most, I think." He couldn't tell him what else he missed. The feeling of Finn's hand on him, in him, roughing him up. He hated it, more than anything he hated it, but he couldn't deny how his body missed being touched like that. He could never tell Blaine that he did more than just think about Finn.

Blaine kissed him softly on the cheek. It was such a sweet, chaste gesture and when he looked into Blaine's beautiful, soft eyes and knew he could never tell him that. He was doing what he was supposed to, talking to Blaine...but somethings he just couldn't say. Blaine could never understand and Kurt didn't want him to

"I'm holding you now, Kurt." He said softly.

Kurt shook his head. "It's different. The feeling of clothes is so different from the feeling of skin...it's a barrier. It feels less...close."

Blaine looked hurt now, and Kurt kissed him softly. "I don't mean I don't like it Blaine, I just need you to know that what I'm feeling isn't going away. I keep trying to ignore it, and hope it will go away like you say it will...but it's not. You need to know that it may never."

Blaine nodded. "I know..." He said quietly. He put his hands on Kurt's chest, slowly loosening his Dalton tie and lifting it over his head. He brushed his fingers a long his chest, and Kurt was surprised to find he was undoing the buttons.

"What are you doing?" He asked breathlessly. Blaine kissed his ear again, and continued removing his shirt. When he was done, he took his off his own tie and shirt as well.

"I'm going to hold you, Kurt. Like you want." He said quietly. He removed their clothes slowly, and pulled the covers up around them.

Kurt's heart beat quickly as Blaine put his now bare arms around him. Blaine's legs tangled with his and he felt the tears come back.

He could feel the warmth of Blaine's chest pressed up against his back. His skin was soft and perfect. He had missed this.

He smiled, utterly thrilled at the relief he felt. At the moment this felt like exactly what he needed. "Thank you, Blaine." He whispered.

Blaine kissed the back of his shoulder. "You don't miss Finn, you miss how Finn could make you feel. I love you Kurt, and I can make you feel better."

Kurt snuggled closer to Blaine's chest. He knew it was true. When Finn held him, it was usually because he'd hurt him. He would cry and ache against Finn's chest, needing his arms around him to make him feel like what had happened was ok.

With Blaine's arms around him, he wasn't in pain and he wasn't ashamed. He felt warm and light and relieved. He rolled over inside Blaine's arms so he was facing him.

He kissed him sweetly on the lips and looked back into his eyes. "I love you, Blaine."

* * *

*This line is from the episode "Faith, Hope and Trick" in season 3. It is said by the slayer Faith.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Finn lay down on the floor in the solitary room. The room was small and square and painted one of those colours that looked like white, but wasn't exactly. Kurt would probably know the exact name.

Finn was pretty sure he had just reached a new low. He hadn't thought that was possible for him. Raping your brother should be the lowest a person a can go.

He couldn't believe he'd almost hurt Paige...touched her like that. He felt disgusted with himself. She cared about him and made him feel better and he'd...he felt like vomiting again. He thought about what she'd said.

_I knew you wouldn't hurt me…_

There was no way she could of known that. He had been _planning_ on hurting her. He recognized what he was feeling and it was exactly how he'd always felt right before he'd hurt Kurt. Everything was slow and unreal and that dense, disgusting fog made it all seem like a dream.

The window in the door moved back a little, and a food tray come forward. He stood up, expecting to see an orderly.

"Sheila said I could bring you food." Paige said, smiling a little. She pushed the tray towards him and he took it.

"Paige I am so sorry." Finn said.

"I know. I said I forgive you, Finn." She said.

"Then why did you tell Sheila what I did?" He asked.

"Because, I forgive you 'cause I know you didn't mean to hurt me and your trying to get better. But it still wasn't ok. You need to get punished so you know that you don't have a right to anyone's body but your own." She said simply.

"I know, I do...it's just. I can't...I fucking hate it so much." He said incoherently. Paige seemed to understand what he meant anyways.

"It's ok Finn. And the important thing is you stopped. You could have hurt me, but you stopped yourself. That's really good." She said, and she smiled. He didn't understand how she could still like him.

Finn nodded.

"So, um, that was Rachel, huh?" Finn nodded again. "She's uh, real pretty...tan." Paige said quietly, looking at her own impossibly pale skin.

Finn stared at her. It had never occurred to him that Paige was self conscious about her appearance. He didn't know why, he knew most girls were...it just surprised him.

"Paige, she's nothing." Finn said, and Paige stared at him. "She's just a selfish, melodramatic attention hog. Do not be jealous of her."

Paige smiled. "It's hard...I mean...I know I'm not beautiful. You know, you're the first guy to ever kiss me. Sad, huh?"

Finn closed his eyes and sunk down to the floor. Of course he was. Of course no one had ever kissed skinny little Paige with her wide eyes and pitch black hair. He felt awful.

"I'm sorry Paige. I'm sorry I took that from you." He said, rubbing his eyes.

"Eh, it's ok. I've always been kinda curious what it would be like, and now I know that all the fuss is for nothing." She stuck her head sideways through the window and smiled at him.

With difficulty, he pulled himself back up and looked at her, and she pulled her head back through the window. "It isn't always though. When you've got the right person it can be great. You can see fireworks." He said quietly, trying not to think about how the only two people he'd ever seen fireworks with had cheated on him. "One day Paige you are going to meet someone special and when they kiss you, you'll see what the fuss is about. I promise."

Paige shrugged. "I doubt it, but I appreciate you saying that."

"Paige, I-"

She held up her hand. "Tell me you're sorry again, and I'll bite your nose. I know you're sorry. I know you hate yourself. But try and focus on the positive, ok?"

Finn bit his lip and felt his eyes fill up with tears. "Paige, I fucking love you. And I'm gonna make what I did up to you, ok?" He said.

She smiled. "I love you too, Finn. I'm gonna go get some food to sneak out here for myself, and then we can eat together, 'kay?" He nodded and watched her bounce away. He couldn't believe what he'd almost done to her. He wouldn't let it happen again.

* * *

"Nick and Kurt, you'll be in a group with Jake." Kurt's science teacher, Mr. Nye told them. He had been sitting next to Nick for the last few weeks, so he was pleased that he was grouped with him, but Jake was new and seemed very threatening. He was very tall, probably about 6 ft and had broad shoulders and spiky black hair.

"I'm not moving, you'll have to come to me." Jake sneered from across the room. Nick rolled his eyes and went to get up, but Kurt stopped him.

"Then you'll fail." He said cooly. Nick sat back down and they began working on the assignment. 10 minutes later, Jake reluctantly came and sat at their desks.

"This assignment is dumb." Jake said, staring at their textbook.

"Well, now aren't we the pot calling the kettle black." Kurt mumbled, putting on his lab goggles and making sure they wouldn't mess up his hair. Nick laughed at his joke, and put his own goggles on.

"Whatever." Jake said. Kurt figured he probably just didn't get what he'd said.

"You should put your goggles on Jake...you don't wanna...ya know..." Nick said.

"You could get hurt." Kurt clarified.

Jake just sneered. "I don't need no fucking _goggles._"

"Suit yourself..." Kurt said, beginning to measure out the different chemicals they would need. Sure enough, Jake poured in too much of something, and it combusted in his face. He was sent to the nurses office.

"We told him, we said that it would happen." Nick said, shrugging.

The next time Kurt saw him, half his left eyebrow was gone. Somehow it made him look even more threatening. He shot Kurt a dirty look as he passed him the hallway, and Kurt shrugged it off. He'd been feeling good lately, and with Dalton's zero tolerance policy, Jake couldn't actually do anything.

* * *

"So Blaine held you while neither of you were wearing clothes?" Claudia asked, very pleased with his progress.

"Well, he kept our underwear on but still, it felt great." He said happily.

"Better than Finn?" She asked. Kurt nodded.

"No comparison. Blaine was warm and soft and loving, and he was holding me to let me know how much he cared for me, not because he felt guilty for almost ripping my legs apart or whatever sick reason Finn did it for."

"Good. That's really good, Kurt. I'm glad your beginning to see the difference between intimacy and sex. Intimacy can be just as rewarding." She said.

Kurt bit his lip. "Well, I don't know about that...I mean...I still feel..." He sighed. "I still have those..._urges_." He said, wrinkling his nose.

Claudia nodded. "I didn't expect them to instantly disappear. But this is great progress, and helps up the level of comfort you and Blaine feel towards each other intimately. That will help definitely help in progressing your relationship further, sexually."

"I'm worried though that Blaine thinks this will solve everything. And I don't want to say anything because I don't want him to think I'm ungrateful because I'm not. I love him and the way I felt when he was holding me...it was wonderful. Just being so close to him, feeling his body against me...it made me feel like everything could maybe be ok one day. But later I still needed to..." He looked down.

Claudia stared at him for a moment. "Kurt, what did you just say?"

"After Blaine left, well not right after, it was the next day, I still needed to, _you know_, while thinking about Finn." He explained. She shook her head.

"Not that. You say you love Blaine? How do you know?" She asked.

He shrugged. "I used to think I loved Finn...I know that that was just a defense mechanism, what I felt for him was just me trying make myself feel better about what was happening…"

"And is that similar to how you feel for Blaine?" She asked quietly.

Kurt shook his head and smiled, remembering the relief he'd felt when he'd realized what he'd been feeling. "No. That's how I know. It's nothing even close, and before I'd never been sure what I felt for Blaine...but when I was lying there with him I realized what all those feelings were. I love him."

Claudia squealed excitedly. "Do you realize how big that is Kurt? For you to feel that emotion for Blaine, it takes your feelings and desires beyond physical. That's fucking brilliant."

Kurt frowned. "I know...I just wish the physical desires would go away already..."

Claudia shook her head. "I keep telling you, the physical desires are nothing to be ashamed of. And now that you've experienced emotional love, you can work towards experiencing physical love and see the difference between that and what Finn did to you. This is good Kurt, this is really good."

* * *

"You know when I said I'd make it up to you, I was thinking I could like watch a Wizards of Waverley place marathon with you, or find something of Patricia's to rip up." Finn said.

"Stop moving." Paige instructed. She was sitting across the table from Finn, drawing his portrait with charcoal."

"Can I please put on a less derpy expression, at least?" Finn mumbled.

"Then how would this be you making it up to me?" She asked. Finn sighed, and plastered at huge smile back on his face, making his eyes go cross. He gave Paige a double thumbs up and she smiled.

"This is awesome." She said, smiley widely as she drew.

"ust urry up, ahkay?" Finn tried to say.

"Sorry, can't understand you." Paige said. "I don't speak 'derp'."


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

Things continued normally for about another week, although "normal" remains an extremely relative term in a mental intuition. George had a sudden freak attack and tried to organize everyone into 13's (it looked just as weird as it sounds), and Michael decided that chairs were the enemy and needed to be thrown around the room while he screamed. However, neither Finn nor Paige experienced any "incidents" and nothing of consequence happened until group therapy on Wednesday.

They were playing Free Questions and Young had just asked Paige if she was really the girl from The Ring.

"No." Paige grumbled. Finn put his arm around her.

"Don't listen to her." Finn said, squeezing her tightly.

"You're much less dead looking than her Paige." George squeaked from across the room. Paige smiled widely at him.

"Thanks...my turn for a question?" She asked Duncan, and he nodded. She turned to Finn and smiled guilty. "Don't hate me, 'kay?" Finn groaned, but nodded. "Ok, um...what was Kurt like?" She asked slowly. "Like...before."

Finn thought. He hadn't thought about what either of them had been like before in a long time. "He was...sort of a diva, I guess. He was a singer, and he was crazy talented and he knew it...he was very into fashion. Some of the stuff he used to wear, I swear would have looked so weird on anyone else." he smiled a little. "But he always pulled it off in his own "Kurt" way. He got made fun of a lot though, and he always tried to pretend he was strong...he'd put on an icy sort of shell and let people think he could handle it...but I knew that deep down he was weak and vulnerable. I think that's why I picked him, you know? It could have been anyone really, and a lot of it was because he was there, and because I had it in my head that since he was gay and used to like me, he would be into what we were doing. Like anyone could be into that." He had to stop there to choke back his tears and Paige gave him a small sideways hug. "But mostly it was because I knew he was weak, and I wanted to feel powerful." He sobbed for a few more minutes and Paige hugged him tightly.

Thinking about him hurt, but it hurt even more when he thought about how he hadn't seen the person he was talking about in months. That had been who Kurt had used to be, but it wasn't who he was now. Finn had taken that person away.

* * *

"Hey, Jeff, come sit with us!" Blaine called. Jeff looked over nervously, and slowly made his way towards his and Kurt's table at the cafeteria.

"Blaine, he doesn't really look like he want to sit with us." Kurt said, watching the nervous expression on Jeff's face.

"Sure he does." Blaine said. Kurt sighed, wishing Blaine wasn't suddenly so interested in having friends. Why couldn't they just be alone together? Being out all day was tiring, but when he had to interact with a lot of people, it was almost unbearable.

"Hi." Jeff said quietly, taking a seat across from Kurt.

Kurt was about to respond when a loud sneer from behind him distracted him. Jake walked up to their table and smiled menacingly at Jeff. "Stille, I didn't think this was your cup of tea." He said, gesturing to Kurt and Blaine.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Blaine asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Nothing, I just didn't know Jeff was into dudes is all." He said, leaning in close, a menacing glint in his eye. Something about that glint made Kurt's heart beat quickly.

"I'm not, but if you keep leaning so close to Kurt, people might begin to think you are." Jeff said cooly.

Jake sprang up and looked around, as though checking for anyone who might be thinking he was gay. With an angry growl, he stormed off.

"I thought by transferring here I would be getting away from that sort of thing." Kurt said with a sigh.

"You are mostly. Guys like Jake are few and far between. They come, they stir shit up for a while, they get expelled." Jeff said with a shrug. Blaine was still glaring after him. After a few more minutes, he finally turned his attention back to Kurt and Jeff, plastering a smile on his face.

"So, Kurt, Jeff is into foreign films." Blaine said. "You liked City of Lost Children, right?"

Kurt nodded. "Yeah, it was beautiful. And funny, too."

"Jeunet is great for that. His films always have such a beautiful and funny heart." Jeff said earnestly. "That's the director. Jean-Pierre Jeunet." He clarified, noticing the looks he was getting.

* * *

After group, he and Paige spent some time watching TV with Michael, who had turned out to be not a bad guy when he wasn't freaking out.

"This show went so downhill once Kim and Ron got together." He said sadly. Paige nodded.

"Ron was like my idol." Finn said quietly. "I was jazzed when he got with Kim."

"I respect that you have a different opinion from me, but I disagree." Michael said, trying to keep his voice even. Paige smiled.

"Excellent job, Michael!" Paige cheered, clapping her hands.

"Thanks." Michael said, trying to appear indifferent to the praise.

"Finn, you have a visitor. It's your Mother." Casey said, coming over and leaning on the couch. Finn nodded and stood up, and was distressed to see his mother talking to Sheila.

From the look on his mother's face, Sheila wasn't telling her about anything good. Besides himself, Finn was pretty sure he'd never hated anyone more than Sheila.

His mother looked at him with those wide hurt eyes that weren't angry, but something so much worse. Disappointed. She was so disappointed in him.

"Hey Mrs. Finn!" Paige said, rushing over to her excitedly. Finn followed slowly.

"Hello Paige, sweetie, how are you?" She asked, biting her lip.

"Pretty good. Better if you brought cookies and totally awesome if they're M&M." She said, eyeing the package in his mother's hand. Carole nodded and handed the package to Paige who squealed excitedly.

"Hi Mom..." Finn said quietly.

"Had a little relapse?" She asked gently, looking at Paige who was already eating a cookie.

"Yeah. Rachel came by and I just lost it..." He said sadly.

"Everyone just focuses on the negative here." Paige said, her mouth full of cookie. She swallowed and continued speaking. "Am I the only one who can see that he _stopped?_ Hello? For someone with impulse control issues that's pretty freakin' great. He could have hurt me a lot worse but he didn't. Why don't we focus on that, instead?" She suggested, popping the rest of the cookie in her mouth.

"I guess that's good..." Carole said slowly, obviously confused by how unfazed Paige was. Finn shrugged.

"So how is everything?" Finn asked, as he and his mother took a seat at one of the tables. Paige usually gave them some privacy when they talked, but today she stuck around.

"Good, I suppose. He seems to be doing better...I think Blaine and his new therapist are helping a lot. He still has nightmares though." She said sadly. "We're not sure he even remembers them, because he never says anything...but they're less frequent."

"Good. That's good." Finn said, nodding.

"Um, Mrs. Finn?" Paige said quietly. "You don't happen to have a picture of Kurt I can see, do you?"

Carole looked a little shocked, but reached into her purse. "I think so...I got these developed a while ago...before...and I haven't been able to bring myself to put them in an album. They're from Sectionals."

"He's not dead, Mom." Finn muttered.

"It was like he was, for a while." She said quietly.

"But he's not so dead now?" Paige asked hopefully. Carole smiled.

"I thought I heard him humming yesterday." She said, her eyes brightening. "He stopped as soon as he realized I was listening, but it was still great."

Finn put his head on the table. "He used to give full performances of broadway musicals every time he took a shower. Now humming is exciting." He mumbled.

"Here you go." Carole said, taking out a stack of photo's. They showed Kurt and the Warblers on stage, and a few were taken after the performance as well.

Paige's eyes went wide as she looked at them. "He's beautiful." She said quietly. Finn nodded, his head still on the table.

"He was."

* * *

"So, Jeff's pretty cool, huh?" Blaine said, and Kurt groaned. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with what he'd said, and he did like Jeff, but the timing seemed a little strange.

It was Friday after school, and they were lying together under the covers.

"Is now really the time to be talking about this?" Kurt mumbled, snuggling closer to Blaine's body.

"I was just thinking, I mean you seemed to like him, right?" Blaine asked.

"That's not the point..." Kurt said, closing his eyes lazily. "It's easier for me to pretend we just had sex if we're not talking about our peers." He regretted saying it the moment the words left his lips, and he felt Blaine stiffen around him.

"Why do you need to?" Blaine said quietly.

Kurt bit his lip. "I don't...I just...never mind."

"Isn't this enough?" He asked, placing his hand softly against Kurt's chest.

Kurt opened his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows. "Yes, it's enough." Kurt lied. "I shouldn't have said anything. I'm happy like this." He kissed Blaine on the cheek and lay back down on his arm.

He shouldn't have said that. This wasn't enough and he knew it. But Blaine had looked so hurt and Kurt knew he was trying so hard...Claudia was going to kill him.

"Jeff seems nice." Kurt said, trying to perk Blaine back up. Blaine smiled.

"We should hang out with him, and maybe Nick outside of school." He suggested, and Kurt tried to keep his groan to himself. However, his emotions must have shown up on his face because Blaine frowned. "You don't want to hang out with them?"

Kurt sighed. "It's not that...it's just, I mean why do I have to? Other people are tiring."

"Kurt you need to have friends outside of me." Blaine said. "I can't be the only one you rely on."

"Why not?" Kurt asked, and Blaine sat up in the bed.

"Because, what's going to happen when I'm not there one day?" He asked. Kurt felt his chest grow hollow.

"Why won't you be there?" He asked quietly.

"That's not what I mean. I mean what if one day I'm sick or tired or in a bad mood. How are you going to feel if you need support and I'm not there, and you have no one else to turn to?" Blaine took Kurt's face in his hand as he spoke.

"You're not always there, you don't answer your phone sometimes and I don't freak out...anymore." He said quietly.

"Good. That's great Kurt. But you need to have other friends too. You used to, remember? What happened to Mercedes, or Rachel?"

Kurt prickled at the mention of their names and turned away from Blaine. "I don't want to be friends with them again."

"Why not?"

"First of all, everything that happened was Rachel's fault. She fucked with Finn's heart and he took it out on me. And where the fuck was Mercedes when I needed her? I'm getting raped by my brother and she's no where. Out of sight out of mind, I guess." He said bitterly. Blaine put his arms around Kurt, lying back down beside him.

"It wasn't Rachel's fault. It was Finn's fault. And did you ever call Mercedes, or try and get in touch with her? Friendship is a two way street Kurt." He whispered, kissing Kurt's ear.

"I don't want to see them again." Kurt said, fighting off tears. He was sick of crying, sick of needing to be consoled.

"Why?"

"Because they don't know. When they think about me, they think of Kurt Hummel, sassy fashion diva." He spat. "I haven't changed to them. I'm the same, everything is the same and I don't want to kill that. I don't want them to know."

"You don't need to tell them." Blaine suggested.

"Blaine, look at me. Look at how I've been acting. They'll know something's wrong. I'm different. They'll ask questions. They'll worry. It'll be everything happening all over again. I'll tell them and they'll cry and then I won't be Kurt anymore, I'll be there broken friend who got raped."

"That's not true..."

"Yes it is. It's how you think of me, it's how my Dad and Carole think of me..." The tears were coming and he cursed, wishing he could just fucking stop them already.

Blaine was quiet for a moment. He kept his arms around him, holding him tightly. "You're still Kurt to me. You're still the boy I fell in love with. You always will be."


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

The audition process for a duet with the Warbler's was very difficult. First you had to audition solo, and then the finalists from the solo round were paired up with another finalist with a compatible sound. Then the pairs competed against each other and a winner was chosen. It wasn't something Kurt wanted to go through.

He hadn't sung anything in months, not alone. The closest he'd gotten was a bit of humming while he did the dishes a week ago, and he'd stopped when he'd realized Carole was listening. He didn't want to give anyone false hope.

But Blaine had been persistent, begging and pleading with him. Saying it would be good for him. And Blaine had been so good to him, and he wanted to make Blaine happy so here he was, standing in front of the Warblers, all of them waiting to hear him sing.

He was supposed to sing "Analyze" by the Cranberries. The duet to be sung was "Salvation" by them and Blaine thought it would be good to demonstrate how compatible his voice was with their sound.

He looked around at the expectant faces, trying to ignore the pounding and tugging in his chest. He fought back the voice in his head that whispered "_Get out. Run. Go far away where you'll be safe._" The voice was persistent and scared and he wanted to listen to it badly. Trying to calm himself down, he went over the lyrics in his mind and tried to believe them.

_Close your eyes, close your eyes  
__Breathe the air, out there  
__We are free, we can be  
__Wide open_

He didn't feel open at all. He felt trapped and afraid. This shouldn't be difficult, he used to sing all the time. His fingers trembled as he pressed play on the music, and tried to open his mouth to sing. He felt dizzy, and sick. He looked at Blaine. He looked worried and sad and the voice in his head screamed and pleaded. He knew he couldn't sing. He couldn't do it.

"I'm sorry..." He mumbled, and then ran out of the room.

* * *

"What's with the sudden interest in Kurt?" Finn asked. They were sitting at a table playing checkers, and Paige had been pestering him with questions about his step-brother since their group therapy session on Wednesday.

"I dunno. Check-Mate." She said, jumping over one of his kings.

"I keep telling you Paige, that's chess. You don't say it in checkers." Finn said, rolling his eyes. "But you've been bugging me about him for two days now, why?"

She shrugged, and moved his king off the board, adding it to her collection of Finn's jumped pieces.

"Is it because of what you guys have in common now?" Finn asked quietly.

"What do we have in common?" She asked, stacking up Finn's pieces in a little tower.

"You've both been attacked by me." He said bitterly. Paige looked at him.

"We hardly have that in common. You kissed me and awkwardly grabbed my boob, I don't really think it's comparable." She said, waiting for him to take his turn.

"Then what is it?" He asked. Paige had kept one of the pictures Carole had shown her, and she'd spent an hour looking at it the day before.

"I dunno. I knew everything about what you did to him and stuff, and how you turned him into a zombie but I barely knew anything about who he was as a person. I was curious. Besides, you need to think about him as a person too, so it's good for you to talk about his personality." She said, skipping her piece over two of his.

"I do think of him as a person." Finn protested.

She raised her eyebrows. "If you thought about him like he was a real person, it would be harder for you to masturbate while thinking about him. He's not some sick sexual fantasy of yours Finn, or some physical manifestation of your illness. He's a person."

"I know." Finn said quietly. "I'm trying."

"And that's what matters. So come on, tell me more about the time he dressed up as Lady Gaga."

* * *

"Kurt come on, wait up!" Blaine yelled, chasing after him down the hallway.

"No, just leave me alone." Kurt yelled, quickening his pace.

"Please, Kurt." Blaine begged, running to catch him. He felt terrible. He had forced Kurt to audition and it had gone awfully. What had he been thinking? That Kurt would just magically snap back to his old self when he started singing? He hadn't heard Kurt sing alone in months and he'd made him get up in front of a room full of people by himself.

"Blaine, I'm sorry!" Kurt shouted, stopping and whipping around. His face was red and streaked with tears. "I just couldn't do it, ok? Everyone was staring at me, waiting for me to do something and I just couldn't fucking do it. I just...I can't do that anymore. I don't want people focusing on me, I don't want to be the center of attention, I just want to be left alone."

Kurt ran away and Blaine was left standing in the hallway, kicking himself.

"Maybe you should have taken things a bit slower..." A voice from behind him said quietly. He turned around and saw Jeff and Nick walking towards him.

Blaine sighed. "I know...I just thought that if he were to sing again, he'd realize how much he missed it and, I dunno..."

"Be like he used to?" Nick said. Blaine nodded.

"Look, I don't know what happened to him to make him change like he did, and I can guess you're not going to tell us, but I think it's pretty obvious that he's not going to just change back instantly." Jeff said.

"You gotta start from the beginning." Nick said. "He's gotta be ok from the beginning."

"I don't know what that means, Nick." Blaine said miserably, sinking down on the floor.

Nick nodded and ran his fingers through his hair. "Well, what I'm saying is he can't just skip to the middle step, he's gotta go slow...and...well..."

"I think what Nick is trying to say is that before Kurt can sing in front of a crowd again, maybe he needs to sing with one person or something. Get comfortable with his voice again, and having people listen to him." Jeff supplied.

"Yes!" Nick said, snapping and pointing at Jeff. "That's the beginning."

* * *

Finn sat at a table, waiting for Paige to finish showering. He tapped his foot on the floor, finding himself becoming increasingly impatient. He'd been watching the others in the room for a while now, out of lack of anything else to do, and for crazy people they were extremely boring.

Patricia was crying in a corner (the voice in her head, "The Comedian" had taken a turn for the mean after they'd put her on a new medication) and Young was writing what looked like a novel in her journal. A girl named Tiffany appeared to be talking to the bookshelf, and Lina was talking to Duncan.

Actually, that was pretty interesting. Lina was leaning in closely, and saying something that seemed to be making Duncan extremely uncomfortable. He said something back to her, with a harsh look on his face, and she turned on her heel and stalked off to the girl's dorm.

Curious, Finn went over to Duncan and asked what that was about.

Duncan sighed. "Oh the usual inappropriate propositions for sex." He took his glasses off and cleaned them on his shirt.

"Oh...I guess that bugs you?" Finn asked.

"Patients like Lina are tricky. You can refuse their advances until the beavers stop chewing, but if anyone thinks you're even marginally interested in them, you lose your job like that." He said, snapping quickly. "The male orderlies actually draw straws to see who has to watch her shower. It's very difficult."

"Why?"

Duncan hesitated. "Let's just say she can be very lewd."

"Why don't you just make a female orderly watch her?" Finn suggested.

"Patients have a choice of male or female orderly, whatever they're most comfortable with. And I doubt the sex of the orderly would deter her." Duncan said.

Finn nodded. "Paige told me to stay away from her."

"That's probably a good idea. Ah, speak of the devil..." He said, smiling.

"I'm the devil?" Paige said, popping up behind Finn.

"Of course you are." Finn said. Duncan smiled at them and walked away.

"Didja miss me?" She asked.

"You were only gone for 20 minutes." He pointed out.

She smiled at him. "You missed me."

* * *

"Kurt? Come on, please let me in. I'm sorry." Kurt sighed and slowly got up off his bed. He'd been hoping that if he just stayed silent, Blaine would give up and go away. It had been 20 minutes and he was beginning to get the idea that that wasn't going to work. Reluctantly, he opened his door Blaine smiled.

"What do you want?" He asked, standing in his doorway.

"I wanted to apologize for making you start out in the middle." Blaine said. Kurt stared at him, and went over what he said in his head, trying to decide if he was just being slow. No, it really hadn't made any sense.

"What?" Kurt asked.

"Sorry, I think Nick's having a bad effect on me." He smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry for making you sing in front of everyone like that. I should have realized that before you could sing in front of a large group, you were going to have to be able to sing with one or two people instead."

Kurt looked down and saw the guitar he had in his hands, and began to panic.

"No. No way." Kurt said, backing away from him.

"Come on Kurt, it's just me." He said softly, following him into his room. "We're just going to sing a song together. No big deal."

"I...I can't." Kurt said lamely, sitting down on his bed.

"Yes, you can. And I think you know you can, and you're just afraid." Blaine said, taking a seat next to him.

"I'm not afraid." He said quietly, looking at Blaine's guitar. That was a lie, and they both knew it. His heart beat quickly and he tried to slow it down, telling himself there was nothing to be afraid of. It was ridiculous for him to be afraid, it was just singing after all. He had used to love singing.

"Yes, you are. You're afraid that you'll sing and find out how much you still love it. You're afraid because that would mean that deep down, under your pain and sadness, your still the same person."

"I'm not." He whispered.

"You are. We've been over this. What happened changed you, no one can deny that, but you're still Kurt Hummel and you_ know _you love singing." Blaine poked him on the shoulder and kissed his ear, giving him a sideways hug before picking his guitar back up.

"I'm going to start, and you just join in whenever." Blaine said, positioning his fingers on the guitar.

_Close your eyes, close your eyes_

_Breathe the air, out there_

_We are free, we can be_

_Wide open_

_For you I open my eyes_

_To the beauty I see_

_We we will pray,_

_We we will stay_

_Wide open_

_Don't analyse_

_Don't analyse_

_Don't go that way_

_Don't lead that way_

_That would paralyse your evolution_

Kurt closed his eyes, listening to the soft sound of the music and Blaine's voice. He tried to block out any other thoughts, because if he thought about anything he would panic again. He moved his hand over to Blaine's middle and held onto a bit of his shirt. Gripping Blaine tightly, Kurt opened his mouth and quietly began to sing.

_Don't analyse_

_Don't analyse_

_Don't go that way_

_Don't lead that way_

_That would paralyse your evolution_

It was ok. It felt ok. Kurt opened his eyes and saw Blaine smiling at him reassuringly, continuing to strum on the guitar. Kurt smiled back a little, strengthening his voice a little.

_Lalala this greatest moment_

_Lalala the strangest day_

_Lalala the greatest love of them all_

_Lalala. this greatest moment_

_Lalala, the strangest day_

_Lalala, the greatest love of them all_

_Close your eyes_

_Close your eyes_

_Breathe the air, out there_

_Fantazise, fantazise_

_We are open_

His voice was still shaky and unpracticed, but Kurt was singing louder and more confidently now. Unbeknownst to both of them, Carole and Burt were both listening, standing just outside Kurt's bedroom door.

_For you I open my eyes_

_To the beauty I see_

_We we will pray_

_We we will stay ...together_

_Lalala, this greatest moment_

_Lalala, the strangest day_

_Lalala, the greatest love of them all_

_Lalala, this greatest moment_

_Lalala, the strangest day_

_Lalala, the greatest love of them all_

_Lalalalala_

The song ended and Blaine hugged Kurt, who smiled widely, feeling tears come to his eyes. For once he didn't try and stop them. Instead of pain and hurt and loneliness, these tears brought with them relief and lightness.

Burt and Carole rushed in then as well, and threw their arms around Kurt and Blaine. They were both crying and smiling and Kurt felt like laughing. He had sung and people had listened and it had been ok.

"God it's great to hear you sing again Kurt." His father said, standing up and trying to pretend that he wasn't crying. "I missed your voice so much."

Kurt smiled, thinking he'd missed his voice too.

* * *

**A/N: OK, totally unrelated note but Vanity Fair just published an article referring to Blaine and Kurt as Fags. The coloumist is gay but that shit is NOT ok. Quote Below.**

* * *

**"Animal" (Neon Trees) *** Nice singing. But how can having girls in the audience make these cartwheeling, foam-party fags straight-sexy?**

* * *

**WTF?**

**Just thought I'd share. **


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

"Whatcha doing'?" Finn asked, watching Paige draw intently.

"Drawing ya nunkhead." Paige said, not looking up.

"Whatcha drawing?" He continued, trying to get a glimpse of her page.

"Something." She said, using her finger to smudge the charcoal.

He pouted. She'd been drawing non-stop for the past two days and he was growing increasingly bored. He'd only been able to get her stop twice, once by putting on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and another by telling her that Young just announced that Fight Club was the worst movie she'd ever seen.

He gave up on attempts to catch her attention after his offer to make out with George went unnoticed (although he thought George might of heard, because he squeaked suddenly and left the room) and he went to join Michael by the TV.

"What's on?" He asked, sitting next to him.

"Crap." Michael said, not blinking.

"What else?"

"More crap."

"Anything besides crap?"

"Ace of Cakes." He said.

"Cool. Cake." He said. The two of them watched in silence for a little, before Finn looked over at a commercial break and noticed that George had joined them.

He shifted in his seat awkwardly and cleared his throat. "Um...I was joking about what I said before." Finn said.

George nodded. "We don't need to discuss that." He said quietly.

"Ok." Finn said, turing back t the TV.

"Uh, Finn?" George said, his face turning pink. "Can I ask you something?"

Finn sighed. "I'll try to be quieter when I masturbate George, but it's hard."

Michael snickered. "Dude, that's funny."

"I think he meant it's hard to be quiet." George said.

"I know but it really works both ways." Michael said. "And that's why it's funny."

"I did mean it's hard to be quiet, but Michael's right, the pun is pretty funny. But I'll try and keep it down George. Besides, I think I've been thinking about Kurt less recently so..."

"Not really." George said. "And you have nightmares too you know, but I don't want to talk about the volume at which you masturbate." George said, staring at his palms. "I wanted to know...are you...well..."

"You've got like 30 seconds before Ace of Cakes comes back and you lose my attention." Finn said.

"Are you dating Paige?" He asked quickly, his voice breaking in the middle of his sentence.

"Am I what?" Finn asked, laughing. "Paige? No way. Dude, she's like my sister. That would be weird."

"Well that doesn't actually mean anything...you did rape your brother." George pointed out.

"Step-brother, but I see your point." Finn said. "No, I'm not dating Paige. How would you even date someone in here?"

George shrugged. "I don't know. Well, bye then." He said, rushing out of the room.

"Weird dude." Michael said, staring after him.

* * *

"Alright so we've had a mixed week." Claudia said. "On the one hand, you sang with Blaine and enjoyed it, which is great. On the other hand, you told Blaine that cuddling was enough when it clearly isn't. And then there's this Jake character you mentioned who frightens you. We'll have to deal with him later, what we need to do right now is figure out where we are."

"Not in Kansas anymore." Kurt supplied, and Claudia glared at him.

"I'm serious Kurt, do you want to be sexually frustrated forever?" She asked.

"No..." Kurt mumbled.

"And didn't you tell me last week that your frustration is getting worse, and your getting less and less satisfied by what you're doing on your own?"

"...Yes."

"Well then we only have one option. You're going to talk to Blaine, and I'm going to help." She said, reaching into her desk and taking out a pad of paper.

"You mean by talking to him for me?" Kurt asked hopefully.

"Yes that's exactly what I mean." Claudia said sarcastically. "No, we're going to write a script together and you are going to memorize it and repeat it to Blaine. This will help you discuss the situation in a mature and structured manner, and you'll be less likely to panic if you already know what you're going to say."

"This is going to be horribly awkward, isn't it?" Kurt muttered, sinking lower in his chair.

"Probably. Now you should start off with the obvious..."

"Blaine you're really hot and you smell good, please fuck me?" Kurt tried.

"Yeah, not even close. I was thinking something more a long the lines of 'Blaine, there is a matter I need to discuss with you.'"

"Well if you want to dance around the subject, sure..."

"Are you going to help or not?" Claudia asked. "Now, after you say you need to discuss something, you say…."

"Remember last week when I said I didn't need anything more than cuddling? Well, I shouldn't have said that because it's not true."

"Excellent." Claudia said, writing that down on her pad. "You should mention how there's nothing wrong with what you're feeling because its a natural part of life and there's no reason why two consenting people shouldn't engage in mutually beneficial sexual activities."

"Yes and then we'll talk about how it's ok that there's hair down there." Kurt said, smiling sarcastically.

"Well you don't need to say it _just _like that, obviously." She said.

"How about 'What I'm feeling isn't going to go away, but you can help me deal with it in a... healthy way. And, um, it'll be different from what I was used to...with Finn, because we love each other and what we do will reflect that.'"

"Lovely." Claudia said, writing happily. "Well this is going smashingly."

* * *

"OK, I'm done." Paige said, turning her pad around. "Viola."

Finn stared at drawing, speechless.

It was Kurt.

She'd drawn the picture she'd taken from his mother. The picture was of Kurt from the waist up, standing in front of the stage, and she'd enlarged it in her drawing and taken away the background so it was only Kurt now. He was smiling widely and there was an excited glint in his eye.

"Paige that's amazing..." Finn said, staring at it. Despite being black and white, the portrait was so life like he expected it to move and laugh at any moment.

"Yeah. I wish I could get it photocopied, so I could colour it in...but I used up my privilege." She said. "Oh well. It's pretty good though, huh?"

Finn nodded. "It looks just like him...how he used to be."

"I think it's the best thing I've ever done." She said happily. "Come help me hang it up in my room."

Finn nodded and they snuck into the girls dorm. Outside of Paige's dorm, Finn thought he heard a quiet singing off in the distance, but he couldn't be sure over Paige's chattering. He shrugged and followed her into her room.

* * *

Kurt was in the washroom at Dalton when he came in.

"Hey fairy, try not to look at my junk when I'm going to the bathroom, alright?" Jake sneered, going over to a urinal. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Right, I'll try." He said, combing his hair. He wanted to leave but the harsh weather was killing his skin and he needed to re-moisturize. More importantly, he wasn't going to let Jake scare him away. He took out his moisturizer and began applying it, and Jake finished and went to wash his hands.

"Could you be any more of a fag?" He jeered. Kurt looked at him.

"Be careful Jake, Dalton has a zero tolerance policy. You'll get expelled." He warned. Jake moved closer to him, glaring at him with a familiar glint in his eye. His heart began to beat quickly and he wished he'd run before. "I'm serious..." He said nervously.

Jake smiled, baring his teeth threateningly. "Maybe I _want_ to get expelled from this fucking school. This place is shit, and maybe that why I've been bugging you. You're my ticket to expulsion." He said, backing Kurt into a corner. "Do you think threatening you is enough, or will I actually have to rape your little queer ass to do it?"

Kurt looked up at him, and almost felt like laughing. He suddenly realized why that glint in Jake's eye looked so familiar, and why it made his heart race. It was the same glint Finn always had right before. His heart still raced, but something had shifted now.

He smiled at Jake and moved closer. "It's sort of funny that you would say that...of all the threats in the world, you pick the one that gives me exactly what I want." Jake looked nervous now, less sure of his actions and it made Kurt's heart beat even faster, but he wasn't scared anymore. That familiar longing was growing in his stomach, and he put his hand on Jake's chest, pulling him forward by his shirt. The aching desire shuttered through out his body, tantalized by the thought of gratification and without thinking Kurt kissed him hard and deep.

He moaned loudly, moving his hand down Jake's front and down between his legs, and felt Jake stiffen under his fingers. He smiled at the familiar and missed feeling, kissing Jake harder.

Jake grabbed his shoulders, responding suddenly to Kurt's touches by kissing him painfully back and then pushing him away and running out of the bathroom. Kurt slammed into the wall, and sunk down onto the bathroom floor, laughing insanely to himself. After a while, he began to cry.

* * *

Blaine was sitting in the library studying when suddenly his books were on the floor and an angry, pale face was shoved in front of his.

"Jesus Jake, what the-" Blaine began.

"You tell him to stay away from me, ok?" Jake shouted.

"What?" Blaine asked, trying to figure out what he was talking about.

"You're fucking _freak_ boyfriend. Tell him to just stay the fuck away from me, got it?" He screamed, tears springing from his eyes.

"Jake, what happened?" Blaine asked, confused and a little worried.

"Just keep him away from me." Jake shouted, leaving the library.

"What happened?" Blaine yelled after him. Without bothering to pick up his stuff, Blaine ran out of the library after him.

* * *

Finn couldn't look at Paige's drawing without seeing his brother. But not his brother as he'd left him, not the naked begging mess he'd turned him into.

He was the Kurt of "before" in that drawing, his eyes full of attitude and life. He smiled and it was one of those rare smiles that took forever to coax out from him and was so worth it when you did. He was the brother Finn had wanted to protect, and hated himself when he'd failed. He never thought he'd see that boy again but there was, staring at him from Paige's wall.

The portrait was beautiful and perfect, but for Finn there was something darker underneath it's smiling face and bright eyes. For Finn, his eyes held an unspoken accusation and his smile felt full of cruel irony.

When Finn thought of Kurt, he thought of him on his knees, sweating and pleading. He didn't think of him like this, strong and proud. Those were different people, the boy smiling in the portrait and the one moaning on his knees. They had to be different people.

He looked at the portraits eyes, and they seemed to change from happy to angry before him. "How could you do that to me, Finn?" The portrait asked. He wanted to tell the portrait that he hadn't done anything to it, that he'd done it to another Kurt, a different, broken person.

It had to have been another person. The painting looked at him, full of broken promises of glamour and stardom and shook it's head. "You did it to me."


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

When Blaine finally found Kurt, he was curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor. He wasn't crying anymore, but it was obvious that he had been. Blaine sank down next to him and put his hand on Kurt's shoulder.

"Kurt, what happened?" He asked quietly. He hadn't been able to get any information out of Jake, who was too upset to form coherent thoughts. However, he had called Kurt a "goddamned insane faggot" enough times for Blaine to not really care. He'd run around the school for what felt like hours looking for him before a Warbler named Kyle had told him he thought he'd heard crying coming from the downstairs bathroom.

"Kurt...what happened with Jake?" He asked again, and felt Kurt stiffen at his name. Blaine's heart beat quickly as 10 different awful scenarios burst into his mind, all revolving around one question. "Did he touch you?"

It might of been his imagination, but he thought he heard Kurt laugh. He sat up then, brushing the crusted tears off his face. "No." He said, his voice hoarse and thick.

Blaine felt relieved for exactly 3 seconds, and then went straight back to panic. "Then what happened?"

Kurt looked at him sadly, his eyes watering again. "I touched him." He said quietly.

"What?" Blaine asked, not comprehending.

"H-he made some stupid comment about wanting to get expelled, and raping me and I just...I don't know...I snapped." He said, his shoulders beginning to shake. "I fucking wanted it. I wanted him to touch me, and hurt me and make me hate myself again. But he didn't, so I grabbed him and I kissed him..." The tears fell from his eyes and he looked at Blaine pathetically. "And I put my hand between his legs...and if he hadn't stopped me I don't know what I would have done."

Blaine tried to wrap his mind around what Kurt was saying. "I don't...why would you...why?"

Kurt put his hands on Blaine's shoulders and looked into his eyes. "Blaine, I lied to you. I'm sorry, but I did." He sobbed.

"About what?" Blaine asked quietly. Everything felt confusing and strange.

"About it being enough. When I said that we were doing, when you were holding me I said it was enough. I lied." He choked back more sobs and kept speaking. "Remember when I said I still think about Finn?"

Blaine nodded. He felt numb and tired, and there was a dull pounding in his head. He could barely understand Kurt, the pounding was making everything feel slow and surreal.

"Well that's not all." Kurt cried. "I don't j-just think about him. I think about him and what he used to do to me and I...I..." He face crumbled and he struggled to be able to speak. "I fucking get off on it, Blaine." He sobbed and put his head down into Blaine's lap. Blaine felt an odd sense of Deja Vu.

"It's so fucked up Blaine, but I need it. It won't go away. And Jake...he looks like him. I didn't want to see it at first but he does. And I felt...I felt...oh god."

Blaine nodded, dimly understanding what Kurt was saying. The feelings he had weren't going away. Blaine had wanted to believe they would, that eventually Kurt just wouldn't need sex anymore but that obviously wasn't going to happen.

"I'm so sorry..." Kurt whispered, lifting his head up. Blaine looked at him, taking in his tears and pained expression. It was all too familiar. How often where they going to do this? How often was Kurt going to act out in some sexually aggressive way, and then dissolve into tears? How often was he going to have to hold him and tell him it was ok?

"No more, Kurt." Blaine said. "We're not going to do this anymore."

"W-what?" Kurt said quietly. Blaine stood up.

"Sex, it's like this horrible, painful desire for you. It can't stay that way. If it does, we're just going to be stuck in this vicious circle, and every time I think we're making progress we'll just end up right back here. You need to think about it differently." Blaine said, his voice strong and resolved. He'd made up his mind about something, and he offered his hand to Kurt.

"I-I..." Kurt said, taking his hand and pulling himself up. "You're not mad?" His whispered hoarsely.

Blaine shook his head. He was fed up, fed up of Kurt's hurt cries and not being able to do anything to change it or to make it better, but he wasn't mad. "I should have listened to you before. You tried to tell me what you needed and I didn't listen, but I'm listening now." He went into a stall and got some toilet paper to dry Kurt's tears, praying it was the last time he ever had to do so. "This has gotta stop. I'm going to make it stop." He said, wiping the tears off his face.

* * *

Finn stared at his ceiling, willing the feeling between his legs to just go the fuck away already. He knew that the second he touched himself, the picture Paige drew was going to appear in his mind. He knew this because that's what had been happening over and over again for last 3 hours.

He felt the need clawing at him, and he'd touch himself. But then all he could think of was that fucking picture. Seeing Kurt like that killed any desire he had to keep going, filling him with an awful sense of regret.

Paige was right, he wasn't thinking of Kurt as a person, he was thinking of him as a perverse outlet for his sexual desires. That's how he'd been thinking about him when he'd raped him and that's how he'd been thinking about him when he'd masturbated to him.

If Kurt was a person he couldn't do that anymore. It would be like raping him all over again. He throbbed angrily between his legs and a familiar fog crept at the back of his mind, inching him forward. He ignored it. He wasn't going to do that to Kurt again.

The next morning, he couldn't go to breakfast. He lay on his back with a pillow on his lap, quietly wishing he was dead. Around noon, Paige came looking for him.

"You missed breakfast." She said, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"How would you know, you don't eat breakfast." He asked, staring at his ceiling.

"George told me. And he gave me 26 M&M's, want one?" She asked, holding out a small bag.

"Where did George get M&M's from?" Finn asked, taking one.

"Privilege." She said simply. "Now why are you lying there?"

He rolled his eyes. "Why do you think?" He said, pointing to the pillow in his lap.

Paige shrugged. "Just take care of _that_ and let's go watch TV."

"I can't. It's your fault." He said, glaring at her.

"My fault? How is your inability to jerk off_ my_ fault?"

"Because!" He said, sitting up on the bed, making sure to keep the pillow on his lap. "Every time I try I just see the portrait you drew of Kurt in my head and it's the only think I can think about!"

Paige looked appalled. "My masterpiece is not to be used as your fap material!" She said.

"That's the problem, I _can't_ fap to it!" He seethed. "It's too real and too much like he used to be."

"What problems you have." She said sadly.

"Oh woe is me." He muttered.

_"My life is a misery. Oh woe, can't you see, that I'm at the start of a pretty big downer."_ She sang, smiling. "Love Rocky Horror."

"How surprising. It brings back bad memories for me. My Glee club performed it and I was Brad and I had to walk around in my tighty-whities." He groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"You were in a Glee Club?" She asked excitedly. _Shit._

"Uh yeah, didn't I tell you?" He said quietly, knowing her had purposefully not told her that.

"Was Kurt in it too?" She asked. "You said he was a singer."

Finn nodded. "Yup, a long with Rachel and Puck."

"Don't you mean Bitchel and Suck?"

He smiled. "It's Bitchel and Fuck."

She shrugged. "Sing something."

"Hell no." Finn said. Paige pouted. "No."

Paige looked at him sadly, but then smiled brightly. "I'm going to make you a present, and then you'll sing!" She said excitedly.

Before Finn could ask her what on earth she meant, she ran out of the room.

* * *

"Um, Mr. Hummel?" Burt turned around, surprised to find Blaine standing there without Kurt directly attached to his hip. "Can I talk to you, for a minute?" He asked.

Burt stepped away from the car he was working on and wiped his hands on a rag. "Sure Blaine. What's up?"

Blaine blushed and shifted around awkwardly. Burt sighed. Whatever he wanted to talk about, it was obviously not going to be fun.

"Well, it's about Kurt." He said, avoiding eye contact.

"I figured as much." Burt said.

"Um, this weekend...well...my parents are going out of town." He said, looking at his feet.

Burt narrowed his eyes. "Yeah?"

"And well, I was wondering if you would let Kurt..." Blaine paused, still shifting uncomfortably.

"Just spit it out, kid." Burt said. He could tell where this was going already. And he knew what the answer was, too.

Blaine took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. "Would you let Kurt sleepover, at my house?"

"Fuck no." Burt said.

"I figured that would be your immediate reaction." Blaine said. "But you have to know, Kurt is special to me and I would never,_ eve_r do anything to hurt him. So please hear me out."

Burt sighed, and rubbed his eyes. "Alright. You have 5 minutes."

"Oh." Blaine said, looking surprised. "I was sort of expecting you to kick me out anyways..."

"4 minutes and 42 seconds." Burt said.

"Right. Ok, so I don't know how much of Kurt's problems your aware of..." Blaine said, biting his lip.

"We sent him to a therapist who specializes in sexual disorders." Burt said, grinding his teeth. "I have a good idea about his problems."

"Ok, good." Blaine said quickly. "Well, then you that what happened...what Finn did...it left him with sort of a skewed view of sex. And not just sex, intimacy altogether."

"Uh huh..." Burt said.

"He thinks about sex as this big, painful, awful thing-"

"It was for him." Burt snapped.

"I know." Blaine said. "But even so...he still..." Blaine looked at his feet again. "He still wants it." He said quietly.

Burt rubbed his temples and sat down on a nearby chair. This was not something he wanted to talk about with some 17 year old punk with too much hair gel. "Yeah, you don't think I know that?" Blaine looked surprised, and opened his mouth to speak, but Burt didn't let him. "We can hear him, at night you know. Hear the nightmares he's having...the things he shouts..." Burt looked away. He could barely bring himself to discuss this with Carole. "You don't think I've found him, sleeping in Finn's room? I can see the stains on the fucking bedspread, I'm not an idiot. I know what he's doing."

"Why haven't you said anything?" Blaine asked. The accusatory tone put Burt's defenses back up.

"What the hell am I supposed to say?" He shouted, standing back up angrily. "There is no parent handbook on this sort of thing, 'what to say to your kid when their jerking themselves off while thinking about getting raped'! How am I supposed to talk to him about that? I don't even want to know it, let alone have to see the look on his face when he finds out I do."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hummel...I was out of line." Blaine mumbled, and Burt rolled his eyes.

"Damn straight you were." Burt said. "Look, we've talked to his therapist about it, she told us she already knows and they're working through it."

"Right...I want to help him work through it too." Blaine said.

"And how is sleeping with him going to do that?" Burt asked.

"Uh, well I hadn't actually planned on going that far yet." Blaine said, smiling awkwardly. "I was going to start out smaller."

Burt held up his hand. "I don't want specifics, but how is that going to help?"

"He needs to stop thinking about sex in relation to pain and misery. It doesn't have to be this awful thing. It can be good, and romantic and nice." Blaine said.

"And your going to show him that?" Burt said dryly. He was not a fan of this idea.

Blaine nodded.

Burt sighed. "Look, I'm going to be honest with you, the idea of anyone having their hands on my son is not an idea I'm comfortable with, got it?" Blaine nodded. "However, I do recognize that Kurt needs to have a different view on...sex. What's he's doing now, it's not healthy. However," he added, because Blaine was beginning to look triumphant. "I can't just say yes...I need to think about it for a little, I need to talk to Carole...I need to...I don't know, process." Blaine nodded. "So can I give you my answer later? I'll call you or whatever...alright?"

"Yeah that'd be great." Blaine said excitedly. "My number's probably on your phonebook."

Burt rolled his eyes. "Your number is almost guaranteed to be on every phone's re-dial."

* * *

**A/N: I would like to thank last week's episode of Glee for letting me know that Blaine going to talk to Kurt's Dad about sex is not at all a weird or OOC thing for him to do. I had this conversation planned before that, and I was worried it would be unbelievable for him to do that. Ok, originally it was a phone call, but I think it works better in person. Also, this chapter had very little Finn I know, but the next chapter will have much more of him and probably less Kurt.**


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

Finn didn't venture out of his room until lunch the next day (Paige was kind enough to sneak him food the day before), when his body had finally calmed down enough to allow him to do so. He looked around but Paige wasn't anywhere in the main room. However, George was putting together a puzzle with Tiffany, and he went over to ask if he knew where she was.

"Her room, I think. She was drawing over at a table, but Kevin was pestering her." He said, referring to the shifty looking boy currently arguing with Young in a corner of the room. "Something about her poisoning his water." Finn nodded. Kevin was often accusing people around him of poising or trying to kill him in some way. "Anyways, I saw her take her pad and go to the girls dorm to get away from him."

"Cool." He said, patting George on the shoulder. George stiffened at his touch and clenched his hand around the puzzle piece he was holding. Tiffany bit her lip.

"It's ok George. Just breathe." She said quietly. She had a high, breathless voice that reminded Finn a little of Betty Boop.

"Sorry dude, but I'm not going to pat you 12 more times. It's for your own good." Finn said. George nodded stiffly, and slowly unclenched his hands. Tiffany smiled.

"Excellent. Alright, I'm going." Finn said.

"Ehhh..." George said numbly, although he seemed to be calming down.

Finn looked around the room, and saw the only orderly, Corey, was busy breaking up a fight between Young and Kevin. He made his way quickly into the girls dorms and towards Paige's room.

* * *

Blaine had been listening to romantic songs for the last three hours and he was pretty sure that if he found one more romantic, beautiful song that was ruined by the inclusion of the word "girl" he was going to scream. Usually, he wouldn't have cared. The meaning of the songs didn't change depending on who it was being sung to and that should have been good enough...but not now. Now every lyric and every verse had to be perfect. Everything needed to sound smooth and sweet and right.

The phone rang and he rubbed his eyes, waiting for one of his parents to get it. When they didn't, he looked at the caller ID and saw it said "Kurt". His parents would have figured he would want to get it.

"Hey." Blaine said, picking up the phone and trying to keep his voice light.

"Blaine?" The voice of Burt Hummel said. Blaine sat up straight in his chair.

"Yes, Mr. Hummel. Hi. It's Blaine." He said quickly. Kurt's Dad always had the ability to make him feel like the world's biggest idiot, and it didn't seem like this phone call was going to be any exception.

"So, I was thinking about your...proposal, for this weekend." He said awkwardly. "I discussed it with Carole and Kurt's therapist, and they both feel that it would probably be good for him..."

"Really?" Blaine asked. "His therapist thought it was a good idea?" If she thought so, then it had to be.

"Well, she may have been a bit more enthusiastic than that..." He mumbled, obviously not enthusiastic himself. "I believe her exact words were 'it's about fucking time'."

"She said that?" Blaine smiled. Kurt had mentioned she was bit unorthodox, and it would appear he had been telling the truth.

"Yeah, she did. I'm also supposed to tell you that you're her new favorite person in the world." He grumbled. Blaine tried to resist the urge to smirk, but it was hard. "Apparently she's been telling Kurt the entire time that he needs to take steps towards something more...romantic with you, which makes me wonder why the hell I'm paying this woman to tell my son to whore himself out."

Blaine sighed, tipping his chair back so that it leaned only on it's back two legs. "Mr. Hummel, I assure you it is nothing, _nothing _like that. I love Kurt. I just want to show him that."

Blaine heard Burt sigh and mumble something about just buying chocolates. "Mr. Hummel?"

"Yeah, I'm still here..." He said. "I know that you, you know, care about him and stuff...and I would be lying if I said I couldn't see that you're good for him. You got him to sing again and I'll always be grateful for that..." Blaine didn't say anything, just rocked himself back and forth nervously in his chair. He could tell this was a very difficult thing for Burt to say. "So...Kurt can, uh, sleep over at your house this weekend." He said finally.

Blaine was so surprised, he let go of his desk, toppling backwards with his chair. "Blaine?"

"Yeah, no that's great Mr. Hummel!" Blaine said excitedly, getting up off his floor, and picking his chair back up. "I promise I'll be good to him."

"Look, I don't want any details about anything and I'm going to assume you know that if he comes back even a bit more broken then he already is, I'm going to find you and begin removing body parts, and they will be things you will miss, got it kid?"

Blaine nodded quickly, then said "Yes, sir." When he realized Burt couldn't see him. Hanging up the phone, Blaine stood in the middle of his room for a minute, trying to process everything.

A huge smile spread on his face, and he realized that he was going to be spending a romantic weekend with the most beautiful boy he'd ever seen. And it would be romantic, he was determined. He already had a list of every incredibly romantic (albeit cheesy) idea he could come up with, and it was going to be perfect.

He did an awkward little dance around his room, before clearing his throat and glancing around, terribly glad that no one had been there to see it. Even so, he couldn't stop himself from smiling.

* * *

Kurt lay back on Finn's bed, naked and sweaty. He held Finn's pillow to face, cursing the boy who used to lie there. He'd hurt him and ruined him and made him need him. Then he left him. The pillows and covers had held his smell for a long time, but that was gone now and Kurt could only smell himself. He tried to breath deeply and move past the pain he felt. There was more than usual, because he'd done more than usual.

As of late, the usual touches and pulls and twists and nails dug in tightly had hardly been enough. It was no longer enough to imagine Finn inside of him, pulling his hair and making him scream. He was getting less and less satisfied and feeling more and more frustrated. And then the incident in the washroom with Jake…

He wouldn't let that happen again. He needed to keep himself in check, needed to keep himself satisfied. He didn't know what Blaine was planning, but he was sure it would be very sweet and probably be lovely and make him temporarily happy...but he needed to think long term. When he left Blaine, he would still feel that desperate ache inside him and return to Finn's room. He always did.

It took three of his own fingers, spread wide inside of him, to make it feel the way Finn did. Even so, it still wasn't the same. He would never have Finn's particular talent to make it hurt in all the right ways, to twist and thrust in that rough way that was just so good. He could never hurt himself the way Finn used to, and he knew that Blaine never could either.

And if there was anything he knew by now it was that without pain, there was nothing else.

* * *

As he walked towards Paige's door, he once again heard that low, eerie singing sound. Now that he didn't have Paige yammering in his ear, it sounded much clearer and louder. Curious, he followed the sound down the hallway and around the corner. It grew louder as he walked, but kept its same soft, haunting tone. After turning another corner, he found the room it seemed to be coming from and opened the door.

Lina had been singing, lying on her side in her bed, and combing her wavy brown hair with her fingers. Most likely assuming it was checks, she didn't seem to notice or stop her singing when Finn opened her door.

Finn looked at her and for a moment just stood in her door way, listening to her calm, ethereal singing. "Shut the fuck up, dude." He said finally. "I can hear you out in the hallway."

Lina turned slowly, stopping her singing to smile. "You're Finn, right?" Finn nodded, shifting his weight uncomfortably. She had a deep, throaty voice that seemed almost on the verge of a moan. She looked him over slowly and licked her lips. "You raped your brother, didn't you?"

He glared at her. "He was my step-brother." He said, crossing his arms.

She grinned smoothly at him. Turning herself over on the bed to face him, she eased her legs apart a little before moving them off the bed and standing up. Finn gulped. She wasn't wearing any underwear.

She walked over to him, rolling her hips sensuously. His heart beat quickly as she came close to him, pressing herself tightly against him. She put her arm behind him to swing the door closed and looked him over again before pressing her lips tightly against his ear. "Do you want to fuck me?" She asked, her voice rolling deeply out of her throat.

Finn could feel the blood pounding in his ears and he looked at her, trying to keep his thoughts straight. "C-checks..." He managed.

She smiled, and moved her hand down his chest and between his legs, keeping her eyes locked on his as she did so. "I have 20 minute checks." She said breathlessly, rubbing slowly. "That's enough time, isn't it?"

Finn nodded, feeling something move in his mind, urging him forward. It wasn't the fog, the fog was grey and pulling, thick and slow. This was more like a blizzard, blowing around bright white and sharp. He grabbed her and lifted her up to his mouth, pressing his jaw tightly against hers. She grinned and pulled him forwards, dragging him onto the bed and on top of her.

In seconds she'd taken him out of his pants and into her, and she threw her head back against her pillow. Finn held onto her tightly, moving quickly and without thinking. The noise in his head was screaming and bright, whiting out everything but the rhythm of his hips and the sound of her moans, soft and long, almost like cries.

She was soft and warm and perfect and Finn lost himself inside of her, experiencing a relief more profound and wonderful than anything he'd ever felt before. He felt like he'd been holding his breath for the last three months, shutting himself inside a cage he refused to unlock, and now he was free and everything was open.

He'd been holding off for what seemed like forever, fighting against his desires and telling himself they made him sick. They white blaze behind his eyes disagreed. Every nerve in his body felt like it had been turned up to 11, and it was growing white hot with ecstasy.

When he came it was with an agonized, perfect shudder and sigh. Being inside her was like a perfect acceptance of everything he knew his body wanted, and everything the doctors told him he couldn't have.

His breathing returned to normal, and slowly the white edged itself out of his brain, and he could see again. He looked at Lina, and saw she was crying. Before he could ask her what was wrong, she giggled and a second later he was being ripped off her and thrust against the wall.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Corey screamed, pulling up his pants and holding onto him tightly.

"I...I..." He looked at Lina and she was rolling around on the bed, laughing madly. "You said you have 20 minute checks!"

She giggled and bit her thumb. "I do. When you came in, I hadn't had a check for 10 minutes though."

"You fucking bitch." He said, and Corey dragged him out of the room.

"What the fuck Finn?" Corey seethed, dragging him to solitary.

"She said I could!" Finn protested.

"She's a goddamned sexual compulsive, she say's _everybody _can!" He screamed, throwing him into the room. "This is real fucking great!" Corey stormed off and Finn rubbed his head, trying to figure out what was happening. He groaned, looking around at the familiar not-quite-white walls.

He should have listened to Paige.

* * *

**A/N: Technically Lina never said he could sleep with her, she just asked if he wanted to.**


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10:

Blaine bounced nervously up and down on his bed, while his friend Abbie stared hopelessly at his closet. "Well?"

She sighed and turned to him. "Blaine, I know that I'm basically the only girl you know, but I am_ really_ not the person to be asking for fashion advice. Every item of clothing I own is black, because that way I don't actually have to think about what I'm wearing. I grab a top, and a bottom and I know they both match because they're black. It's sort of why I like the uniforms at Crawford…"

"But you're a girl...isn't this stuff just sort of in your genetic code?" He asked, getting off his bed and going to stand by her at his closet.

She looked at him like he was nuts. "So what? Your gay...shouldn't this be in _your _genetic code? You shouldn't need me for this." She muttered.

"Well then between the two of us, we should be able to find something good." He said optimistically, turning to face his closet. "Besides, you're really just here so I can get an opinion."

"I have no opinion on fashion..." She said, going to take a seat on his bed. "Wear a shirt and pants. There. Best advice I can give you."

"I want to look different from how I usually do..." He said, sorting through his clothes and ignoring her comments.

"That's easy. Wear anything that isn't your uniform."

"No, I want to look different from how I usually look not in my uniform, too." He said, and pulled out a pair of faded black skinny jeans. "I don't think I've worn these in a while..." He said, tossing them to Abbie.

"You own skinny jeans?" She asked, holding them up.

"Well they're not super skinny, I bought them on a weird whim and I think I wore them once." He said. "So they're different, which is good."

"I'll have to see how they look on."

He nodded and began unbuttoning his pants, before glancing up at her. "Cover your eyes." He instructed, and she rolled her eyes and placed her hand over them.

He grabbed the jeans off the bed and put them on. They fitted looser than he remembered, although they were still considerably tighter than the khakis he was used to. "Ok, how do I look?"

She cocked her head to the side a little, looking at him closely. "I think the jeans are definitely in. In fact, you should never wear any other pants. Just those, always." She said. "Also, I'm going to be honest with you Blaine, I was totally peaking through my fingers."

"Uhn!" He said, shocked at her betrayal. "Not cool."

She shrugged. "I wouldn't have said anything but I need to make sure that when you're having your date, you are not wearing that pair of underwear."

"What's wrong with my underwear?" He said defensivly.

"They've got smiley faces on them. And they're pink." She said. "And now everytime I see you I'll just be picturing those underwear under your khakis. You're basically dead to me now."

He shrugged. "I told you not to look...we'll focus on underwear later, I need a shirt to wear now." He began rooting through his closets and drawers and 10 minutes later, came to a terrible realization. "I only own polo shirts. Who the hell has this many polo shirts?"

"You." She said simply, looking at the pile of polo shirts he had thrown over his bed. "To be fair, no two are a like. No wait..those two are both purple. But basically..."

"They're not purple, that one is lilac and that one is violet." He said dismissively.

"See, you really don't need me for this, do you?" She grinned. "Oh wait a second, I have something in my car!" She said excitedly, and ran out. A few minutes later she was back, and tossed him a black shirt.

"It should fit you." She said, and he tried it on, not bothering to have her look away this time.

"Why do you have a men's shirt in your car?" He asked, doing up the buttons. The shirt was very snug, and fit closely to his chest.

"Um, well...I don't." She said, drumming her fingers together innocently.

"This is a girls shirt?" He asked, looking at himself in the mirror. "A girl's shirt fits me?" He moaned.

"It looks great on you." She offered.

"That explains why it goes in at the middle like this..." He mumbled. The shirt, however, did look great on him. It was short sleeve, made of light material and the buttons were big and silver. As previously mentioned, it was very tight. "You can't tell its a girls shirt, can you?" He asked nervously.

"Nope, not unless you look at the tag." She smiled. "Are we done now?"

"Nope." He said, unbuttoning his top. "Now we need to do my hair."

* * *

The window on the door slid back and a meal tray appeared, but Finn hardly glanced up. The first time a meal had arrived he'd jumped off the bed and run over to it, hoping it was Paige.

It hadn't been, just a very annoyed looking Sheila. He'd been in solitary for two days now, and none of the meals had been brought by Paige.

He had known she would be pissed, she'd told him right away to stay away from Lina and he hadn't listened...but was sleeping with Lina really worse than almost raping her? She had forgiven him instantly then. Now he'd gone 2 days without seeing her, something that hadn't happened since he'd entered the unit. Even when she was at her most unresponsive or he was at his angriest and most out of control, they'd always at least visited the other, let them know that they were there if they needed them.

It was driving him crazy. Crazier. He wished she would come by and at least yell at him, tell him what an idiot he was. Anything. But meal after meal arrived, and nothing.

Eventually he got up and ate his meal, then lay back down on his bed. Solitary had no clocks and no windows, so it was impossible to tell the time. He could have been lying their for a few minutes or hours, he wouldn't know. When meals arrived he would have a general idea of the time of day, but it was after dinner now and time no longer had meaning.

Because there were no more meals left to be delivered that day, when the window slid back this time Finn looked over. Instead of a meal, a piece of rolled up paper slid through, falling slowly to the floor. The window was slammed shut again before Finn could get off the bed.

He went over to where the paper had fallen on the floor, and picked it up. It was another of Paige's pictures. This one featured one of the most beautiful and sexy women Finn had ever seen. She was wearing a low cut dress that exposed the tops of her breasts in an incredibly titillating way, and she had a soft and sensual expression on her face. He looked at the girl, for a few minutes wondering why Paige had drawn this for him before he remembered their conversation from 3 days before.

He hadn't been able to touch himself because of that picture she'd drawn of Kurt...he'd been frustrated and she'd said she was going to make him a present. This was her present. A present that was useless now because he'd found another way to relieve himself. Underneath the picture of the girl was another piece of paper. This one only had one thing written on it, in a haphazard and dangerous looking lettering. It said "I only ever asked you for one thing."

* * *

"Please tell me your not serious." Abbie asked, looking at the items Blaine had in several shopping bags he'd brought up from his basement.

"What? What's wrong with this stuff?" He asked, frowning.

"Nothing Blaine, I get that you want to be romantic and stuff and this is nice but...why is there so much?" She asked. Blaine had about 7 shopping bags with him.

"It's not that much, is it?" He asked nervously.

"You've got the worlds supply of Hersey Kisses here Blaine."

"Not true..." He said, pouting. "I also have Hugs. See?"

She sighed. She liked Blaine, she really did, and seeing him so smitten and nervous was adorable but...this was bordering on insanity. No one needed that many scented candles, and she'd noticed that one bag was from a very questionable sounding store called "Naughties". She hadn't looked inside that one. She looked at her friend and tried to think of a tactful way to tell him it was too much. "You're insane."

He sighed. "I just want to make everything special and romantic."

"I know, but see what you just said there? That desire you have to make everything perfect, and the love that your puppy dog eyes are telling me you have for him, that's what's going to make everything special and romantic. Not drowning him in inexplicably named individually wrapped chocolates."

Blaine glanced around nervously. "Um, this isn't all..." He said, avoiding eye contact. "You haven't seen the flowers yet..."

* * *

Finn awoke to the sound of the window sliding back, and he tried not to hope it was Paige. It wasn't, but it wasn't Sheila or another orderly either.

"Finn?" George said, sticking his head through the window. "Are you awake? Wake up."

Finn rolled off the bed, and scrambled over to the window. Seeing anyone that wasn't a disappointed orderly was cause for celebration. "George, dear lord it's great to see you."

George smiled for a second, twitching the corner of his mouth up before resuming his usual nervously blank expression. "You did a bad thing, Finn."

Finn sighed. "I know, but in my defense she told me I could."

George shook his head. "She says that to everyone. She even asked me if I wanted to...well..." George cleared his throat uncomfortably. "It was very inappropriate. You _knew_ about Lina. She makes advanced on Gorey for god sake. Why'd you do it?"

Finn looked at him. "She_ told _me I could. Why wouldn't I?"

"Because you have a problem with sexual control, and engaging in sex the moment it becomes available is bad?" He said.

"Well, when you say it like that..." Finn mumbled.

"Not to mention...Paige told you to stay away from her." He said, frowning.

"She's pissed, huh?" Finn sighed.

"Well...I don't know." He said quietly.

"What do you mean?"

"When she found out...she just sort of dropped." He said sadly. "Not literally, like not on the floor...but you know how she gets...it's bad. She hans't eaten anything since."

Finn's eyes went wide. "What? Why?"

George shrugged. "Before she stopped, you know, being alive, she said 'But he promised'. Then nothing, so the best I can figure is something about you ignoring her hurt her."

"But that's insane, I've done way worse things!" He protested. His stomach had a sick knotted feeling inside and he was pretty sure he was going to vomit.

"Well, we are in a mental institution. Paige is a mental patient...logic and rational aren't really big things here." He said.

"I..but I...oh god." Finn said, sinking to the floor. This was bad. Paige was down and he'd made her that way, and he didn't even know how.

"Basically." George said.


	12. Chapter 11 Part One

Chapter 11 (Part One):

Kurt drove over to Blaine's house, excited and nervous at the same time. He didn't know what Blaine was planning and he tried not to get his hopes up for anything ground breaking. Blaine had certainly made it seem as though they were going to be doing something more than romantic, but Kurt wasn't sure that what Blaine considered sexual was what the rest of the world did. Kurt had already decided he wasn't going to pressure him for anything more, no matter how much he needed it.

He pulled into the driveway and was surprised to find Blaine leaning against the garage waiting for him.

"Hello." Blaine said, coming over to Kurt's car and opening the door for him.

"Hi." Kurt said, getting out of the car.

Blaine smiled and kissed him quickly on the lips. "How was the drive?"

Kurt shrugged. "Boring. I think I saw a dead raccoon on the highway, but it might have been a tire."

"How lovely." Blaine said, leading him over to the front door.

"Yeah. I'm not looking forward to the drive back though, night driving is nerve wracking." He said, waiting for Blaine to open the door. Instead, Blaine turned to him with something almost like a smirk on his face.

"Don't worry about the drive back." He smiled in a way that made Kurt wonder if Blaine knew something he didn't. "So, you might be wondering why we're still standing out here in the cold." Kurt nodded. "I thought it would be best if I prepared you a little."

"For what?" Kurt laughed. "I've seen your house before Blaine."

Blaine smiled. "Just, try and take it in slowly." He opened the door and Kurt gasped. The hallway was filled with small bunches of white roses, and they led into the house. As he stepped in he could see that Blaine had candles set up at various spots along his house, and they provided the only lighting.

"Oh my god..." He said, taking off his jacket. Blaine hung it up a long with his own, and wrapped his arms around him.

"It isn't too much, is it?" He asked nervously. "I have a problem with that. I've either got nothing or I've got way too much I just...I wanted it to be special."

"Blaine it's way too much." Kurt said, staring at the flowers and candles. "But in such a great way."

* * *

Saturday afternoon, Finn was finally released from solitary. The second he was released he made a beeline for the girl's dorms, but was stopped by Duncan, sitting in a chair in front of the entrance.

"Hey, Duncan." Finn said, shifting nervously on his feet.

"Hello Finn, enjoy your time in solitary?" Duncan asked.

"Oh totally. It was very...solitary..." He said.

Duncan nodded. "Good. I look forward to discussing your relapse in group tomorrow."

Finn nodded, and continued to stand there awkwardly. "So...what are the odds of you letting me in?"

"None." Duncan said.

"Please, Duncan I need to see Paige." Finn said.

Duncan sighed. "Finn, I can't let you in. There's been a major security crack down since your incident with Lina. They were actually talking about putting guards in front of the dorms, you know."

"Guards?" Finn asked. Weren't the orderlies monitoring them enough.

"They won't do it, they mention getting guards whenever something particularly bad happens but they never do. If they were going to, they would have done it when one patient tried to claw Sheila's face off with a plastic spoon about a year ago. Instead they just have the orderlies tasers..."

"The orderlies have tasers?" Finn asked, thinking that he should probably be nicer to Sheila from now on.

"Yes. But that's besides the point." Duncan said. "Look, if she doesn't start eating soon we're going to move her to the medical unit and feed her intravenously, so you can try to see her when she's being moved." He said.

"What? No, I need to see her now. This is my fault, I did that to her and I_ need _to see her. Please Duncan." Finn begged.

"Finn I can't. I could lose my job." Duncan said. He looked upset and Finn could tell he really did want to help. "I'm sorry."

Finn grumbled and stormed away into the dining room, where George was laying chips out on a plate in rows of 13.

"Tried to see Paige yet?" George asked.

"Duncan wouldn't budge." He mumbled, grabbing a muffin and sitting down next to him.

"I tried getting in before, but he's persistent. It would be an admirable quality if it wasn't such a hindrance." George said.

"Yeah...hindrance...right." Finn said, trying to remember what that word meant. He sighed. Paige would have explained it to him if she was there.

"However, I think I discovered a week spot in the new regime." George continued, beginning to eat his chips. "Gorey."

Finn sat up straight. "Yeah? How?" He asked.

"He's easily distracted and highly emotional, he's left his post to deal with other altercations and disagreements. Only for a few seconds, because Sheila's always around to take over instantly."

"So we can distract him?" Finn asked excitedly. George nodded.

"If we can find a way to preoccupy Sheila, preferably in another room, we could cause a distraction and one of us could slip past him."

"That's great! Wait, one of us? Dibs." Finn said quickly.

George sighed. "I figured as much. We can talk to Tiffany about distracting Sheila, and I'll distract Gorey while you go see Paige. But you better be able to fix her or I will dismember your body into 13 neat pieces, got it?" He said, holding his plastic knife threateningly.

Finn nodded.

* * *

When Kurt entered Blaine's house, he had been surprised at the length Blaine had gone through to make everything seem romantic. Then he was surprised all over again by how good Blaine looked. He was wearing tight fitting jeans and a very sexy t-shirt, and his hair was loose and curly.

"Well, hot damn." Kurt muttered, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. Blaine smiled and kissed him softly before leading him into the house. There were roses everywhere, on every surface and in bunches on the floor. Kurt laughed when they entered the kitchen and he saw the words "Too much?" spelt out in Hersey Kisses on the kitchen table. Hersey hugs formed little hearts around the words.

"You are incredibly insane, you know that right?" Kurt asked, looking at the design.

"So I've been told." Blaine mumbled, sticking his hands in his pocket.

"It's amazing, Blaine." Kurt said, unwrapping a hug and taking a bite of it. He placed the other half in Blaine's mouth, and kissed him.

Blaine smiled shyly. "I just wanted to let you know how much I care about you...do you really like it?"

"Are you kidding? This is the most insanely wonderful thing anyone has ever done for me, ever." Kurt said, looking around at the candles and flowers. In the distance, he could hear soft music playing.

Blaine sighed. "There's that word again, 'insane'. You don't really think I'm insane, do you?"

Kurt pulled Blaine towards him, and placed a small kiss on his lower lip. "Don't worry about it, I must be insane too because instead of being worried, your insanity just has me incredibly exited."

"Clever way of dodging my question." Blaine said, cupping Kurt's chin in his hand and pulling him in for a longer kiss.

"However, you have to promise to still love me when the chocolate makes my skin breakout." Kurt said, moving his mouth off of Blaine's for a moment.

Blaine smiled. "I'll love you no matter what." He said, kissing him again. Kurt leaned back against the table as Blaine deepened the kiss. He gasped in surprise as Blaine lifted him up and put him on the table, spreading his legs apart to get closer to him. Blaine's tongue begsn lightly stroking the inside of his mouth and Kurt could feel a familiar ache growing inside him. Blaine's kiss was strong and intense and he ran his hands along Kurt's body as he kissed him. Kurt wrapped his legs around Blaine's body, leaning back even more on the table. He heard something fall onto the floor, and he pulled himself out of his daze for a minute.

"We're ruining your design." Kurt whispered, turning his head to look at the scattered kisses and hugs. Blaine moved his mouth along to Kurt's neck, kissing it gently.

"How could this be ruining anything?" He murmured, and Kurt had to agree.

"But what will we eat?" He said absently, barely thinking clearly. It was insane how soft Blaine's mouth was.

Blaine stopped and Kurt moaned. "No, I take back what I said. Don't stop, food is overrated." He insisted, and Blaine laughed.

"There will be plenty of time for this later." He said quietly, pulling Kurt off the table. "You just reminded me that there is actually food."

"Yeah? Where'd that come from?" He asked, keeping his arms wrapped around Blaine's neck.

Blaine bit his lip. "Well, see...I did want to cook for you..." He began. "But...um...let's just say it ended badly."

"What happened?" Kurt asked, kissing his neck lightly.

"I don't actually know." He muttered. "One minute everything looked fine, and the next there was black smoke everywhere and it had exploded inside the oven, which by the way, will never be the same."

Kurt laughed, kissing Blaine lightly on his lips. "You didn't have to do that for me, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, I was warned many times by many people not to try it. I ignored the warnings and now the oven has had to pay the terrible price for my ignorant and foolhardy ways."

"Shame, it was so young." Kurt said, and Blaine grinned and led him into the dining room.

* * *

George paced around Finn's room, careful to avoid any walls or surfaces he might have touched, and went over the plan. "Alright, Tiffany's in the eatery starting up an argument with one of the voices in her head-"

"That doesn't sound healthy, I don't want her to hurt herself." Finn cut in.

George sighed. "Let me rephrase; Tiffany is in the eatery _pretending_ to start up an argument with one of the voices in her head-"

"Good."

"-and that will draw Sheila in. Once she's gone, I'll distract Gorey by throwing a fit about something on TV, and he'll rush over. Then you slip in and go to Paige's dorm. Be careful not to get caught by the checks. You have exactly one hour, and then we're going to make another distraction. If you don't get out then, you're on your own. Clear?"

Finn nodded. "I really appreciate this George." He said.

"Just fix it, ok?" George said. "Alright, time to go. I'm not touching your door knob, so you need to to open it."

Finn sighed. "There's no germs on my door knob George."

"First of all, there are germs everywhere on every surface. But that's not what I'm worried about. I'm worried about touching something that might have at one point been covered in your semen."

"What! That's ridiculous. What could I possibly have been doing that would-"

George raised his hand up. "I don't want to think about it. But I can hear you at night, and I wouldn't put it past those noises to have at some point covered this entire room with your spunk. I am very uncomfortable in here, so just open the door."

Finn sighed and opened the door, following George out of his room. When they walked into the main room, they split apart instantly so they wouldn't appear to be "in cahoots" (George's words).

Behind the doors that led into the dining area, Finn could hear Tiffany growing more and more frantic. Something crashed to the ground and Sheila appeared from out of nowhere and rushed over.

Finn was standing by the books, pretending to look at them, and he looked over at George who was sitting at the TV with Michael, flicking through the channels quickly. George looked over at him too and nodded, before turing back to the TV and flicking through the channels faster and faster. As he changed the channels he grew visibly more panicked looking, before jumping up and slamming the remote on the floor.

"There are 116 channels!" He screamed, pulling at his hair. Corey looked over from his spot in front of the girls dorm, and Finn saw him roll his eyes. "THAT IS NOT A NUMBER DIVISIBLE BY 13!" George continued to shout. "HOW CAN I CHANGE THE CHANNELS 13 AT A TIME IF I RUN OUT OF CHANNELS TO CHANGE!" With a sigh, Corey put down the magazine he was reading and headed over to George, and Finn quickly ran into the hallway.

* * *

"We can't just leave the plates on the table like that." Kurt protested, as Blaine led him away from the table. Dinner had been great (italian from someplace Blaine withheld the name of, and candle lit, of course) and Blaine had refused to let him even think about cleaning up.

"Yes, we can, and we are. Cleaning it no way romantic." He insisted, pulling him up the stiars.

"It was romantic when Cinderella did it." Kurt muttered, having already forgotten about the dishes, because Blaine was leading him upstairs to his bedroom.

"I never liked Cinderella...Belle and Ariel, they were my favorites." Blaine said, pausing outside his bedroom door. He took Kurt's hand and pulled him towards him, bringing him close enough to kiss. "Before we go in...I just wanted you to know how beautiful you are. Tonight, and just...always." He said, his face an inch away from Kurt's. Kurt breathed in his cologne, resisting the urge to close the short distance between their mouths. "You've been through so much...and you're still so beautiful, Kurt." He whispered, his voice thick. "Do you know that? How beautiful you are, and how much I love you?"

Kurt looked at Blaine, staring deep into his warm eyes. He'd imagined so many different scenarios, lying on the bathroom floor after the incident with Jake...none of them had involved Blaine forgiving him, or Blaine understanding. No one would have blamed him for leaving, but here he was. Kurt smiled and pressed his lips against Blaine's, keeping their mouths touching as he spoke. "I know you love me, Blaine and I know you think I'm beautiful...that's enough for now." He whispered into the kiss, and Blaine reached behind him and opened the door to his bedroom.

* * *

Finn rushed into Paige's room and closed the door behind him. Paige was lying on her bed, her arms and legs spread lifelessly at her sides. He knelt down next to her bed, and brushed her dark hair away so he could see her face.

"Hey, Paige." Finn said. Her eyes were dark and unfocused, and didn't appear to be seeing anything. "Look, I know things are foggy in there right now," He said, running his fingers along her forehead. "But I also know that you can hear me through the fog and I needed to apologize. I fucked up, I know that. You warned me about Lina and I promised I would stay away but I lost control, and I'm so sorry. I made a mistake, a bad one by itself but an unforgivable one when it ended up hurting you." He looked at her, hoping for some sort of response, but she remained still and dead.

"I got your present, and I love it. I promise to use it everyday." He poked her shoulder. "Come on, I know you're just dying to call me a pervert." He sighed. "I remember what you said, that I would sing for you if you made me a present. Well, today's your lucky day. Now, keep in mind I haven't done this for several months, and I wasn't that good to begin with."

He cleared his throat, and began tapping out a quiet beat on her bed side table.

_As beautiful as fire against the evening sky_

_You fuel the lost desire_

_I no longer wanna die_

_Take me by the hand_

_And see beyond the lie_

_Strip away the fences_

_Leaving me needing_

_Leaving me high_

_I know you're so_

_Solo but I can't_

As he drummed a rhythm on the table with one hand, he placed his other hand on her back, hugging her against her bed. She was cold and empty feeling, and for the first time Finn really realized how fragile Paige was.

_Take me away, take me away, take me away_

_(cause I don't wanna lose control)_

_Take me away, take me away, take me away_

_(cause I don't lose it all)_

_Relieved of all the pain_

_You let me see again_

_Delivered from my shame now_

_And I'm lost for what to say_

_Cleansed and pure and weak_

_I suffer when I dream_

_I need to find a purpose_

_Need to feel you needing me_

_I know you're so solo I can't_

_Pure and weak_

_I suffer when I dream_

_Cleansed of me I suffer when I dream_

_I want you to stay_

_You take the pain away_

_Want you to stay_

_I need you here to keep me sane_

"I need you here to keep me sane." He whispered, kissing her on her forehead. A second later he was forced to duck under her bed as Casey came in for checks. When she left, he crawled out from underneath the bed. "So, uh, obviously that was the acoustic version of the song..." he said lamely. When she still didn't move, he knew he was going to have to bring out the big guns. He wasn't giving up yet.

* * *

**A/N: I spent a lot of time looking at songs for Finn to sing to Paige, and I had originally gone with another song before I decided that something slightly more well known would be better, even though I really loved the lyrics of the original song I'd chosen. So Finn sings "Take me away" by Seether, because I feel like it was more likely that Finn would actually have known that song. Anyways, you may have noticed this chapter is Part One, because it was getting long and it was 1:20 and there was no way I was wrapping it up anytime soon. In part two, we see the rest of the KurtCoBlaine Romantic Weekend, and Finn trying to reanimate Paige.**

**Because I wuved it, here are the lyrics to the original song called "Fog" (I know, right?) by the band Wintersleep (very short).**

These broken arms won't hold you down

These ruptured lungs won't make a sound

These syllables won't bring you back,

Won't stitch the holes, no bones intact

And I can't pretend that you were there

And I can't pretend I held your hand

And I miss your smile

I miss your smile

I need you now

I need you now

And I am not scared of falling down

I am not scared of dark dark clouds

I miss your smile

I miss your smile

I need you now

I need you now

http:/www[dot]youtube[dot]com/watch?v=10fyhj9vNFo

replace the [dots] with actual dots (derh!)

**Longest A/N ever! Also you should know that the Blaine and Kurt stuff originally ended with them going to eat dinner, and I added in the stuff outside Blaine's bedroom door at the last minute because there wasn't enough of them in this chapter. And now it's 2:21 am!**


	13. Chapter 11 Part Two

Chapter 11 (Part Two)

"Alright, you've left me no choice." He said simply, climbing onto the bed with her. He picked her up and took her in his arms, trying not to let how small and light she was bother him. He rested her head against his chest and brushed her hair back behind her ears. "Now, you can feel free to stop me anytime you like." He said, hugging her tightly.

He cleared his throat again, and began singing in a high, awkward voice.

_I lived my life in shadow_

_Never the sun in my space_

_It didn't seem so bad, though_

_I figured that was my place_

_Now I'm bathed in light_

_Something just isn't right_

_I'm under your spell_

_How else could it be_

_Anyone would notice me?_

_It's magic, I can tell_

_How you set me free_

_Brought me out so easily_

He thought he felt something then. Something small and almost impossible to detect, but somehow Paige had seemed to stir, just a bit.

_I saw a world enchanted_

_Spirits and charms everywhere_

_I always took for granted_

_I was the only one there_

_But your power shone_

_Brighter than any I've known_

_I'm under your spell_

_Nothing I can do_

_You just took my soul with you_

_You worked your charm so well_

_Finally, I knew_

_Everything I dreamed was true_

_You made me complete_

_The moon to the tide_

_I can feel you inside_

"Uhh…." Paige moaned. Finn stopped singing and looked down at the shifting girl in his arms. "You're _so_ bad..."

"Paige?" Finn said (well, squealed). "Oh thank god. I'm so sorry, I love you and I'm never going to break a promise to you ever again. Besides, just think about how much worse I'm probably going to mess up in the many years to come of our friendship. And you'll have to forgive me then too, because I need you. You're the only thing that matters to me right now, please-"

"I heard you before doofus. I'll forgive you, just please stop ruining Buffy." She whispered.

He squeezed her tightly. "Oh thank god."

"You're so annoying..." She mumbled.

Finn heard footsteps approaching, and quickly untangled himself from Paige and dove under the bed.

"Chec- oh Paige, you're awake!" Casey said, coming into the room. Finn tried to keep his breathing quiet.

"I'm still tired." Paige said weakly.

"Of course you are sweetie, but do you think you can come out and eat something soon? You must be hungry." Casey said. "Or I could have something brought in for you."

"I'll come out soon." She said.

"Excellent." Casey said. "Finn and George will both be relieved to see your feeling better. Neither of those boys are the same when your down." She said, and Finn saw her feet leave the room.

* * *

Kurt's heart raced as Blaine lay him back on his bed. Part of his mind couldn't believe this was real, that Blaine was really slowly unbuttoning his shirt and kissing him softly. It was too good to be true. Life couldn't be this good. Life was painful and hard and full of hurt. He tried to remind himself of that, if for no other reason than because it was what he was used to. His comfort zone was a world of discomfort and misery.

The thought became harder to hold onto as Blaine trailed his fingers along Kurt's chest before removing his shirt entirely. Kurt could feel Blaine moving his mouth down over his body, and his breath quickened as Blaine's tongue traced its way over his nipples and further down to his bellybutton, flicking lightly across it.

In another far away world, he knew there was some soft and warm music playing, but he wasn't really hearing it. All he was hearing was his own quick breath and Blaine sighs.

As Blaine slowly undid his belt and removed his pants, Kurt felt something rising up in his gut. It almost felt like something he'd felt too many times before, but instead of aching and needing this feeling was...excited. No dreading, no fear, no burning ache that filled him with a sick self loathing.

It was an entirely alien feeling, but as Blaine ran his hands down his hips, bringing his head back up to kiss his lips again, he thought it was one he could get used to. Kurt wondered if he was the only person in the world who found it much more comfortable outside his comfort zone.

As Blaine kissed him, Kurt began to undo the buttons of Blaine's shirt, pulling it off around him. As he did, he caught sight of the tag, and out of sheer habit looked to see where it was from. Blaine noticed him looking at the tag, and quickly whipped the shirt away, grinning sheepishly.

Kurt raised his eyebrows. "Blaine, why are you wearing a women's shirt?"

Attempting to distract him, Blaine ran his fingers back of Kurt chest, and kissed him underneath his jaw. "There is a story behind that, and I will tell you later..." He murmured.

"Damn straight you will..." He murmured back, letting Blaine distract him. He tangled his fingers in his hair, guiding Blaine's mouth over to his own and slipping his tongue inside.

Every nerve in his body felt like it was tingling with electricity as Blaine touched him, gliding his fingers over his chest and wrapping his arms tightly around Kurt's shoulders as they kissed.

With one hand, he undid the button on Blaine's jeans, and a moment they later they were gone. Blaine trailed his hand down to the waist band of Kurt's trunks.

"Wait..." Kurt said, putting his own hand over top of Blaine's to stop him. Blaine moved his head back and looked questioningly into his eyes. Kurt twitched his lips into a nervous, apologetic smile. "I don't want you to see...me." He whispered.

"What?" Blaine asked, his tone soft but confused.

"I don't want you to see." He repeated meekly.

"Kurt you've got a beautiful body." Blaine whispered. "You don't need to be shy..."

Kurt smiled. The fact that Blaine still somehow thought he could be body shy was adorable. "It's not that...it's..." Kurt trailed off, taking his hand off of Blaine's and moving it up to his face. Blaine kissed him, and slowly moved his underwear down below his hips and off his body.

Blaine gasped, understanding now what Kurt hadn't wanted him to see. The scars. The marks...the bruises and scabs...Blaine looked at Kurt, feeling tears come to his eyes. "What…?" He asked, not wanting to realize the answer. "Kurt...did you do this to yourself?"

Kurt nodded, biting his lip. "The older ones, that ones that are just scars now...that was Finn." He whispered. "But everything else..."

Tentatively, Blaine took Kurt in his hand, keeping their eyes locked together. "Never again. You're never going to hurt yourself like this ever again, ok?" He said, stroking him lightly.

Kurt shivered under Blaine's touch. "But I'm scared...I'm scared without the pain...I won't be able to...it won't...feel good." He admitted.

Blaine lay Kurt back on the bed, trailing his fingers over his tip. He smiled when Kurt gasped and kissed him again. "We'll see about that..." He whispered.

His moved his mouth down to kiss Kurt's neck, and then further down, brushing his lips over Kurt's nipples, and along his torso. "I love you..." He whispered, sucking lightly on Kurt's body before he continued.

Kurt arched his back as he went, and Blaine placed his hand underneath him, loving the way the curve of his back felt against his hand.

Slowly, he reached Kurt's hips, and he took his time there, kissing along his curves and along the inside of his thighs. "I love you, so much..." he whispered agin. Then he ran his tongue and lips along Kurt's length, stroking him tenderly with his fingers. He felt Kurt's body tense around him as he worked his mouth over him.

Kissing him softly, Blaine whispered that he loved him one more time before taking Kurt into his mouth.

Kurt gasped as Blaine's mouth went over him, keening at the sensation. Blaine continued to stroke him with his hand as he moved his lips up and down, tracing patterns with his tongue.

Hardly in control of his actions, Kurt barely noticed that he'd clamped his legs over Blaine's shoulders, or tangled his fingers roughly in Blaine's thick hair.

As Blaine moved faster, any and all worries he had about it not feeling good were suddenly gone. Good no longer became the right word, either.

Glorious would be closer. Sensational seemed to work too.

Blaine pushed himself further down, suddenly slowing the movement of his hand, and Kurt thought he might have cried out, but he couldn't have been sure.

It was Wonderful._ Incredible._

And then he climaxed, and words no longer had meaning.

Everything went still and quiet, and at the same time it exploded with earth shattering intensity all around him. Pleasure and gratification seeped through his body, reaching through his finger tips and curling his toes.

There was nothing familiar about this. This was something new entirely. He'd cried out in the same way, and the feelings of relief and release were the same ones he'd always felt, but it was more now, so much more than it had ever been.

The thought was incoherent, and had no basis in logic but when it came to him as he lay shaking and stuttering beneath Blaine, it brought tears to his eyes.

The new, perfect, physical sensation he felt, the one underneath everything he was feeling, the one coursing through his veins and pumping through his heart, that was love.

* * *

When Casey left, Finn slowly slid out from underneath the bed, and took a seat on the edge, facing Paige. "I'm sorry."

"You said that." She said, tucking her legs underneath her.

"But I want you to know what that means. I mean, I'm not just saying 'I'm sorry', I really am sorry..." He sighed. "I wish I had a better way of telling you what I meant..."

"Just...why'd you do it?" She asked quietly.

He looked at her. "Honestly? She was there and she wasn't wearing any underwear. And I thought she was saying it was ok...although since she may have crying during and after, maybe not..." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I thought I was supposed to be stopping myself from hurting people who said no...I never even occurred to me that I would need to control myself around someone who wanted it too...or made it seem like they wanted it at least."

She shifted around in the bed, and looked down at her lap as she spoke. "Did you mean what you said before, about being friends for years?"

"Yes. I intend to stick myself to you like some incredibly sticky thing, even after we're out of here." He smiled.

"I'm never getting of here..." She mumbled.

"Yes, yes you are." Finn said, putting his hands on her shoulders and looking into her eyes. "Paige, this it it. This is one of those moments we're going to look back on years from now and think about how much it changed us. We could let it be the moment where our friendship ended, and our lives crashed or it could be the moment where we decided we weren't going to do this anymore. No more freak outs or incidents, no more falling off the recovery wagon. No more relapses. For either of us. Ok? This could be the moment where we decided to get better, and get out of here, together."

In an instant, Paige had launched herself at him, and wrapped her skinny arms tightly around his neck. "Oh that was a lovely speech Finn!" She said.

He smiled, relieved. This change was sudden and almost frightening, but he would take it. "What are platonic life-mates for?"

"I love how creepy you are." She giggled.

* * *

He was still sweating and breathing intensely when Blaine cleaned him up and lay down next to him in bed, pulling the covers around them and holding him snuggly in his arms. He smiled and kissed Kurt on the back of his neck, waiting for Kurt to come down.

"So, how was that?" Blaine asked when he thought Kurt would be capable of answering. "I'm not supposed to ask, but I don't really care about proper procedure or etiquette right now."

Kurt giggled. Something about Blaine not caring about proper procedure and etiquette was incredibly amusing to him. The Warbler's would be so disappointed. "You have a meritorious aptitude for blow jobs." He said, still giggling. He turned around in Blaine's arms, and moved his head onto Blaine's pillow, snuggling closer.

Blaine kissed his forehead, smiling. "Only you would use a 5 syllable word after sex."

Kurt kissed Blaine, and placed his hand against his chest."Blaine, I have a confession to make."

"Mmm-hmm, what's that?" Blaine asked, holding Kurt tightly against him.

"I've never done this before. What we just did." He whispered, and he could feel himself blush.

Blaine looked surprised. "What, you mean-"

"No, I mean..I've done...the _act_...before but...what we just did was different. It was new." He said, hoping Blaine could tell what he was trying to say. He was feeling sleepy and wasn't sure anything he was saying made sense.

Blaine smiled widely, looking positively delighted. "I'm glad I could be your first for something."

Kurt smiled, and rested his head against Blaine's chest, letting his eyes drop shut. "You've always been my first, Blaine. For everything that matters." He said quietly, before dropping off to sleep with Blaine's arms around him.

* * *

Meritorious: (adj.) Deserving reward or praise; having merit.

**A/N: The song Finn sings at the beginning of the chapter is called "Under your spell" and its from the musical episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The girl who sings it has a very high voice and the thought of Finn trying to sing it tickles me. Avid Buffy fans may notice that Finn messed up a few lyrics. Because he's Finn.**


	14. Chapter 12

Chapter 12:

Waking up in Blaine's arms was wonderful. Well, it was wonderful the second time. The first was around midnight, when he'd woken up and realized that he had fallen asleep and his Dad was going to kill him.

"Shh, Kurt it's ok." Blaine had whispered, pulling him back into the bed. "I asked your Dad if you could sleep here."

"You...what?" Kurt asked, laying back down and trying to calm down.

"I asked him if you staying here was ok. And after much deliberation, he said you could. In fact, he packed an overnight bag and change of clothes in your car for you, so I could keep it a surprise." Blaine said, obviously very pleased with his craftiness.

"Oh...wow." Kurt said.

Blaine rested Kurt's head back against his chest, holding his arms around him. "Go back to sleep."

The next morning was much more pleasant. Sun shone through the cracks in the curtain and fell across their entwined bodies, warming Kurt's bare shoulders. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this good.

"Good morning, angel face." Blaine said, brushing the hair off of Kurt's face, which was still snuggled against his chest.

"Good morning curly sue." Kurt said, running his fingers through the tangled mess of Blaine's hair. Blaine grinned, and rolled over so that Kurt was lying underneath him. He smiled down at Kurt, his hair falling into his eyes as he leaned in to kiss him.

"Your hair is so great..." Kurt said, tangling his fingers in the curls as Blaine kissed him. "You should keep it like this, always."

"I'm not sure it really fits with Dalton's dress code." He said, lying next to Kurt and propping himself up on his elbow. "They're not big fans of wild and unruly hair. I need to stay ruly."

"Mmm, who cares?" Kurt mumbled, brushing his hair up with his fingers. It was so soft, Kurt was having a hard time letting go. "Worst they would do is decide that your hair makes you a renegade teenage delinquent and make you go see Dr. Sincere."

"And that is motivation enough to keep my hair plastered firmly to my head." He said with a shiver.

"But it's so sexy like this." Kurt whined, biting his lip. Blaine smiled and got out of bed. Kurt tried to follow, but Blaine stopped.

"You just...lie there, ok?" He said, walking over to his closet. Kurt tried to hold in an exited giggle as he watched Blaine's ass, still covered by his boxers, but beautiful none the less.

Blaine pulled out an old pair of baggy jeans and put them on, ruffling up his hair and turning around to give Kurt a goofy grin. "What do you think? Can I work the sexy, laid back musician look?"

"I think so..." Kurt said, not being able to suppress a giggle this time. He felt incredibly giddy. "But you should probably have an instrument."

Blaine's smile widened, as though Kurt had just made the world's most brilliant suggestion. "Good idea." He said, reaching back into the closet and pulling out an acoustic guitar. He slung the strap over his bare shoulders and began strumming the first new notes of a familiar song, and Kurt covered his eyes in embarrassed delight.

"_We got the afternoon, you got this room for two, one thing I've left to do...discover me, discovering you." Blaine smiled as he sang, walking over to bed as he played. "One mile to every inch of your skin like porcelain, one pair of candy lips and, your bubblegum tongue..._"

Kurt stared at him, and realized he was holding his breath. Blaine always had a captivating charisma to him when he performed, and it was even more intense now. "_Cause if you want love, we'll make it. Swimming a deep sea, of blankets, take all your big plans, and break 'em. This is bound to be a while_."

Blaine stopped walking as he reached the edge of the bed, and began the songs chorus. "_Your body is a wonderland, your body is a wonder (I'll use my hands), your body is a wonderland_."

He sat on the edge of the bed, balancing the guitar on his knee. Kurt was on his side, the sheets covering him up to his waist, and he propped himself up on one elbow. He knew he had a ridiculous smile on his face, but he didn't care.

"_Something 'bout the way the hair falls in your face, I love the shape you take when crawling towards the pillowcase, you tell me where to go and, though I might leave to find it,_" He glanced down seductively as he sang this, biting his lip, and another enamored giggle escaped Kurt's lips. "_I'll never let your head hit the bed, without my hand behind it_."

Blaine stopped strumming now, and he moved further onto the bed. "You want love? We'll make it, swimming a deep sea, of blankets, take all your big plans, and break 'em...this is bound to be a while." He almost said, barely singing the words and looking intently into Kurt's eyes. Kurt stopped breathing again.

Blaine smiled, jumping off the bed and back into the chorus, at full force. "_Your body is a wonderland, your body is a wonder (I'll use my hands), your body is a wonderland…_"

He leaned forward, bending a little over the bed, and looking intently at Kurt as he played. "_Damn baby...you frustrate me. I know you're mine all mine all mine...but you look so good it hurts sometimes…_" He slung the guitar off his shoulders here, placing it on the floor, and crawling onto the bed as he sung the final chorus.

"_Your body is a wonderland,_" He sang, running his hands along Kurt's body, and leaning in close.

"_Your body is a wonder (I'll use my hands),_" He ran his hands up to Kurt's face, holding it lightly as he kissed him.

"Y_our body is a wonderland,_" He whispered, letting himself lie on top of Kurt. "Your body is a wonderland..."

* * *

Finn wandered into the dining room, looking for something to eat. It was 4:00 in the afternoon, so no meals were out, but there were snacks and Finn was pretty sure he wanted to eat them all. George was in there already, chopping up fruit with his plastic knife and laying the bits out in rows of 13.

"Healthy." Finn said, grabbing up a bag of chips and a muffin.

"It's for Paige." He said, beginning to put the cut up fruit in a plastic bowl.

"Right. You know she can get herself a snack, right?" Finn said, smirking at him.

"No, she can't." George said. "She said one of the small things she misses the most from the outside was eating a bowl of chopped up fruit with yogurt. She can't get it herself because she's not allowed to have a knife." He said, waving his plastic knife around.

"Ah, so you plan on wooing her with your impressive knife wielding skills." Finn said, and he saw the back of George's ears turn pink. Ignoring him, George picked up a container of Blackberry yogurt and began mixing it with the fruit.

"She hates blackberries." Finn said.

"But she likes blackberry jam and yogurt." George replied.

"How do you know?"

"I have eyes, ears and a working memory." He said, throwing out the empty yogurt container.

"Remember when you just sat there quietly and never said anything? Remember how fun that was?" Finn said, taking a bite of his muffin. George rolled his eyes.

"I'm going to take this to Paige. She hardly touched her lumpy oatmeal this morning and she needs to eat." He said, turning and stalking across the room.

"You know, most people wait until they're actually in a relationship before they let themselves get whipped." Finn said, following him.

George turned a brighter shade of pink in reply.

"You're pre-whipping yourself dude. It's not good." He continued.

"Ignoring you now." George said, walking out of the room.

* * *

As Blaine kissed him, Kurt tangled one hand back up in his hair, letting the other slide down over Blaine's bare back, and down to his hips. He slowly pushed himself over so that he was lying on top of Blaine. His heart beat fast with excitement as he looked at Blaine, and moved his hand slowly over to the button of his jeans, undoing them just as quickly as he'd done the night before.

Blaine grinned as he kissed him, wrapping his arms around Kurt's neck. "Hey now, I just put those on..." he murmured.

"And I'm just going to take them off..." Kurt said, biting Blaine's lip lightly. He moved down Blaine's body, slowly removing his jeans and kissing along the inside of his thigh as he went. When his pants were off, he trailed his fingers along his thigh again, and lay his head down on Blaine's hip, lingering his fingers over the elastic band of his boxers.

As expected, Blaine protested. "You don't need to do that, Kurt." He murmured, moving Kurt's fingers away.

"Oh, but you can't say no to me..." Kurt said, looking up at him from his spot on his hip.

"You realize I've been saying no to you for months now, right?" Blaine said.

"It's different now." He whispered, and then lifted his head up. He moved back up on the bed, and placed his hands on Blaine's chest. "Tell me I don't need to again."

"You don't." Blaine said. "You don't need to do anything."

Kurt smiled, the giddy feeling bubbling back up inside him. "I know. I know I don't need to." He said excitedly. "I _want _to, Blaine." He slipped his hand back down between Blaine's leg. "I'm choosing too." He continued, sliding his hand inside Blaine's underwear. "You're the first person I've ever chosen to do this with." He said, looking into Blaine's eyes as he held him in his hand. "Please let me."

He could feel Blaine stiffening against him, and hear his breath quicken. Swallowing lightly and never breaking eye contact, Blaine slowly nodded his head.

* * *

Paige was lying upside down on the couch next to Michael, both of them quietly watching TV together. Finn smiled at how far they'd both come.

"Is nothing good on?" George asked, leaning against the couch and looking at Paige.

"Nope. 1000 ways to die is coming on soon though." She said, rolling herself off the couch. "Ooh that looks awesome." She said staring at the fruit bowl in George's hand.

George blushed pink, and twitched nervously as he spoke. "I, um...well...um...you..."

"He made it for you." Finn supplied, watching with amusement.

"Yes! That." George said, looking relieved.

Paige's eyes went wide. "Really?"

George nodded, handing her the bowl. "You didn't eat much this morning. Food is important. For ...you know...being alive." He muttered.

"That's like the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me." She gushed, genuinely excited.

"That's really fucking sad, Paige." Michael murmured, changing channels.

"Thanks George!" She said, ignoring Michael and throwing her arms around him. Finn laughed as George's entire face went hot pink, and his shoulders twitched spastically. "Mmm, fruit." She said excitedly, sitting back down on the couch, completely unaware of the effect she'd on George.

"I need...I'm going..." George said, walking away stiffly, but fast.

"Why'd he leave?" Paige pouted. "He's gonna miss 1000 ways to die."

"I don't think he's really a '1000 ways to die' type of person." Finn said. "I'm going to go check on him...make sure he's not entering some sort of twitchy coma."

"Okeydoke." Paige said, happily eating her fruit.

Finn went to the boys dorm and knocked on George's door. George opened it, looking confused. "Why are you knocking, the door's open."

"Common courtesy?" Finn said, shrugging and moving inside.

"Right. Um, thanks then." George said.

"So, that went well?" Finn said, sitting on George's bed. George flinched as he sat down, but he ignored it.

"Well? Are you kidding?" George said, looking pained. "'Food is important for being alive'? What the hell was that?"

"You were nervous, it's fine." Finn said. "I'm sure she thought it was adorable."

"No, she thinks I'm an idiot. And I can't blame her for it, because I am. She's completely entitled to think I'm an idiot." George paced around his room as he spoke, rubbing his temples.

"Want me to find out?" He asked. George stopped his pacing and stared at him.

"Would you?" He asked, his eyes wide.

"Sure, no problem." Finn said.

"But how, I mean how are you going to bring it up. I don't want you to be obvious." He said nervously.

Finn grinned. "I'll be incredibly subtle."

"So, what do you think of George?" Finn asked, taking a seat next to her on the couch.

"He's nice. Funny. I get a kick out of him." She said, tucking her knees up beneath her on the couch.

"Yeah, that's it?" Finn asked, poking her shoulder.

She shrugged and tucked her hair behind her ear. "He brought me chopped up fruit." She whispered.

"He did." Finn said, grinning.

She looked at him seriously. "Please don't hold what I'm about to do against me." She said, and then a dopey grin spread across her face and she giggled and bit her nails. She teetered back and forth on the couch for a little, giggling madly, and then stopped abruptly. "I'm done now, and if you ever tell anyone I did that, I will kill you horribly and they will _never_ find the body."

"My lips are sealed." Finn said solemnly.

"Mine too." Michael said, staring at the TV screen.

* * *

Blaine lay with his head against the head board of his bed, trying to regulate his breathing. Kurt was lying with his head on his chest, giggling madly and Blaine smiled. He loved how excited Kurt was, loved how relieved everything they'd done seemed to make him. It was though he was just realizing that everything was over.

He'd been talking non-stop since he'd gotten back from the washroom after he'd...Blaine blushed at the thought of what Kurt had done. He knew Kurt would laugh if he knew why he was blushing, but he didn't care. It was his first blow job from his first boyfriend and the thought filled him with the same giddiness that seemed to have claimed Kurt.

He'd been blocking out what Kurt was actually saying for a while now. It was better that way. In his excitement, Kurt didn't seem to realize that he was sharing very intimate and painful details of his "relationship" with Finn.

He'd come back from the washroom, smiling broadly. He had his underwear back on, and flung himself on the bed, giggling and rolling over excitedly. "Guess what I just did." He'd giggled. Blaine hadn't been able to answer then, but Kurt hadn't noticed. "I spit it out." He giggled, curling up and biting his nails. "Just spit it out. Isn't that _wonderful?_"

It had taken Blaine a minute to realize what he was saying, and he'd decided it was best not answer.

"It never even occurred to me before that you could do that, that there was no reason you had to swallow that stuff. It's awful and I hate it, and I _never have to swallow it again!_" He cheered. Blaine smiled, closing his eyes. He was happy that Kurt was happy, but it still hurt to hear about what had been forced on him. Kurt had grinned, and continued to mindlessly divulge awful details, and roll around excitedly on the bed.

"Blaine? Blaiiinneeee." Kurt said, suddenly sitting on his lap. Blaine opened his eyes.

"Sorry, I think I fell asleep." Blaine murmured. Kurt grinned and kissed him.

"That's ok. I should probably keep that stuff to myself anyhow." He said, smiling. "Well, myself and Claudia."

"It's fine if you want to keep talking about it." Blaine said, hoping Kurt couldn't hear the obvious lie.

Kurt smiled and kissed him. "No, I don't. Not anymore. I want to talk about how amazing you are and how much I love you."

Blaine grinned. "A wonderful subject, to be sure."

"I'm serious Blaine." Kurt said, calming down slightly. "Thank you. For everything...I know this has all been hard for you, and I want you to know how much I appreciate it. You've done so much...so much more than anyone could have expected from you. You've been kind, and patient, and forgiving...I know that must have been hard." He said quietly.

Blaine nodded. There was no bother denying it, it had all been hard. He would be lying if he said there hadn't been moments where he would have liked nothing more than to give up, to leave. It was a lot for one person to handle, and at times it was too much.

When Kurt had first told him he missed Finn, his immediate reaction was anger. He'd done so much for him and Kurt still missed the boy who'd raped and abused him. But he'd kept that to himself, and given Kurt what he needed, and in the end it had been ok.

It was that thought, that in the end it was ok, that had stopped him from leaving Kurt in the bathroom after he'd told him what he'd done with Jake. More than ever, he'd wanted to walk away. But as much as he'd wanted to, in that moment and in all the ones before it, he knew he never could.

He'd imagined millions of worlds where'd he'd left Kurt, every time he'd wanted to, from the time he'd gone to his house the day after he'd confronted him in the locker room, to listening to him confess about touching Jake.

He smiled at Kurt and kissed him lightly, wrapping his arms around his waist. He was thrilled that none of those world's existed. This was the only he wanted to live in.

"Thank you, Kurt." He said, brushing his dark hair off his face. "For making it all worth it."

* * *

**A/N: There were times writing this chapter that I actually forgot what story I was writing. It's amazing how easily one can slip back into fluff.**


	15. Chapter 13

Chapter 13:

"Good evening family!" Kurt called, waltzing through his front door on Sunday evening. He'd spent all day with Blaine, talking, occasionally singing and..._other things_. He felt wonderful, and was pretty sure that he was going to start floating off the ground at any moment.

"Good evening, Kurt." Carole said, smiling. She was sitting on the couch, reading a book. His Dad came in from the kitchen, smiling as well.

"Have a nice weekend?" He asked.

Kurt nodded and rushed over to hug him. "Thank you for letting me stay at Blaine's. I had the the most splendid time anyone has ever had. Possibly ever." He said, squeezing his Dad tightly.

"No problem, Kurt." Burt said, wrapping his arms around his son. "I'm glad you had a good time."

"I had a better than good time!" Kurt squealed, flopping down on the couch next to Carole. "It was amazing. He had white roses everywhere and chocolate kisses and hugs and candles..."

"Sounds...romantic." Carole said. Kurt nodded eagerly.

"So romantic. And the next morning, he serenaded me with John Mayer." He gushed.

"Aww!" Carole said, her eyes wide. "What song?"

"'Your body is a wonderland'." He replied. He saw his Dad shift around uncomfortably and made a mental note to watch he accidentally let slip out when he was in a good mood. "Sorry, Dad."

Burt shook his head. "No, it's fine." He said, more to himself than Kurt. "I mean, you two are in love, right?"

Kurt nodded. "So much love." He said with a sigh, leaning against Carole's shoulder.

His good mood lasted all the way to Monday afternoon, where he took a seat next to Jeff in AP French. "Hello." Kurt said, smiling broadly.

"Hey, you're in a good mood." Jeff said, smiling back. "Did you have a nice weekend?"

Kurt grinned and nodded. "Perfect, more like."

"Right, Blaine was planning something romantic, right?" Jeff asked.

"Yeah, he told you about it?"

Jeff shrugged. "Sort of. He was quizzing me and Nick about what we thought was the most romantic song ever, and sort of hinted he was planning something for you. What song did he go with?"

"'Your body is a wonderland.'" Kurt said.

Jeff nodded. "Dunno who suggested that. I said 'Can't Take my eyes off of You' and Nick said 'There is a light that never goes out'."

Class started then, and Kurt found that he liked sitting next to Jeff. Usually he sat alone in class, and it was nice to have someone to make comments to, and chat with when there were pauses in the lecture. Their teacher Mr. Jeunet handed out a new assignment, and Kurt laughed as an excited look appeared on Jeff's face.

"Your assignment," He said in a slight french accent, "Will be to watch a movie, en francias and write a commentary on eet. Also, en francais."

Most people looked excited like Jeff, since this was AP french and anyone in it was theoretically very enthusiastic about the language. Kurt was too, however he was still adjusting back into the full swing of things, and he knew this assignment was going to be a lot of work.

"Not excited?" Jeff asked, seeing the expression of Kurt's face.

Kurt shrugged. "I don't know. I've been struggling in this class lately, and I can already _feel _how difficult this is going to be..."

"I can help you with it, if you want. This is my best subject." Jeff said. "And I'll take any excuse to watch more french movies."

"Yeah? That would be great. Blaine's been trying his best to help me in all my classes, but he's not in any of them and I know it's adding to his work load a lot." He confessed. The bell rang, and they walked out of the class together.

"Where are you headed?" Kurt asked.

"Gym." Jeff said, making a face.

Kurt nodded sympathetically. "I have that last period. Are you doing lacrosse right now too?"

Jeff nodded. "The weird thing is, I'm good at it. I don't understand it, or like it, but I can play it."

Kurt laughed. "Consider yourself lucky. I don't understand or like it either, and it doesn't understand or like me. We don't get along."

Jeff smiled. "I'll tell it to be nicer to you from now. See you at lunch, ok?" He said, waving and walking off.

Kurt smiled, and went to class.

Wednesday afternoon, Kurt found Jeff in the cafeteria, watching a movie on his laptop. "What are you watching?" He asked, sitting down next to him.

"It's the film I'm going to write about. It's called 'Irreversible'." He said, watching the screen intently. The movie showed a beautiful woman in a party dress walking down an underground tunnel, where she came upon a man angrily harassing another woman. She stopped, unsure of what to do, and the man turned on her while the other woman ran away.

Kurt's heart beat quickly as the man grabbed her and pulled out a knife, pressing her threateningly against the wall. He watched in horror as the man told her, in so many words, that he was going to anally rape her. The woman begged and pleaded, but he forced her to the ground anyways.

His mouth went dry and he could feel his palms sweat. The woman looked so helpless, so pathetic…

There were almost no cuts or breaks in the scene. It was all one long, unforgiving take focusing entirely on her horror and emphasizing her frightened and piteous cries. He couldn't take it anymore, he bolted out of the cafeteria and ran into the washroom, the same one where he'd run into Jake a week before. Throwing open the door to a stall, he vomited into the toilet.

As he gasped for breath and sunk down onto the washroom floor, he heard the washroom door open.

"Kurt, are you ok? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have let you watch that..." Jeff said, wandering over to his stall.

"Why would _you_ watch something like that?" He stammered, still feeling shaky.

Jeff shrugged. "It's hard to take, and it's definitely intense but it's a beautiful movie, really." He said, and Kurt stared at him.

"You think rape is beautiful?" He said, lifting himself up. His head hurt and he felt cold and clammy.

"What? No of course not. It's horrible, but the movie itself is beautiful. It's not just about rape, its about how everything is eventually destroyed by time, and the shattering effects that a tragedy like that can have on a persons life and..."

"Just, shut up, ok? I, I don't need help with my french, it's fine." He said, rushing out past him.

* * *

Watching Paige and George together was like watching a bunny trying to mate with a kitten.

It was very odd, and although it was actually quite cute, it just wasn't working. Georges twitches and nervous blushes combatted Paige's constant shifting, fiddling and bouncing. His quiet, calm and reserved demeanor was intimidated by her incessant chattering and non-linear thought process. In turn, shyness confused her.

Finn had a lot of fun sitting and listening to the few, limited conversations they did have.

"So, you like this show?" George asked tentatively as they watched Buffy.

"Fucking duh, George." Michael said.

"Shut up Michael." Finn snapped.

"Yeah it's great. It's got comedy, romance, shiny people, horror, drama, musical numbers, lesbians and a cheese-man." She said, ignoring them both.

"Yeah...there's a lot of stuff." George said quietly. "Lesbian cheese-men are always good..."

Finn bit down on his lip to stifle his laughter, and shot a glance at Michael, who was rolling his eyes.

Paige giggled. "I love Lesbian Cheese-men."

And then George would spend the next few days trying to decipher every illogical thing she said.

"Ok, now she could have either been mocking my admittedly stupid comments, or going a long with them in order to make me feel better about said comments." George said, pacing around his room. "Do you need to lie on my bed when your in here, Finn? Not that I don't appreciate your company and ability to understand what Paige is saying but..."

"Would you rather go into my room?" Finn asked.

"No." George said immediately.

"Then yes, I do need to lie here." Finn said. "And you're taking her comment way to seriously. She tends to just sort of say whatever pops into her head without actually considering what it means."

"I don't think you give her enough credit." George said. "She's very intellectual, and emotionally complex."

"I don't disagree with you George, she has a great mind...I'm just saying that 'I love Lesbian Cheese-men' may not have been the meaning-laden metaphor you seem to think it is."

* * *

Kurt couldn't get it out of his head. Her screams and pleas...his disgusting words. It was Thursday afternoon and he was in the senior common room. There was no Warbler's practice today, but he'd needed to lie down and there were couches. He was stretched out on one when he came in.

"Oh Kurt, great! I've been looking for you." Jeff said, sitting on the edge of the couch. Kurt sat up quickly, tugging his feet away from Jeff. "I'm sorry Kurt, I never should have let you see that. It's a really intense movie, and it's not for everyone..." Jeff began, then reconsidered. "Well, it's not for most people."

"I just don't understand how you could watch something like that, and call it beautiful." He said darkly.

Jeff sighed. "That scene is the hardest to watch in the movie, and there's nothing beautiful about it. But the film itself, its themes and structure...that's beautiful. But like I said, it's not for most people."

"Not for sane people." He muttered. His chest prickled a little as he watched Jeff flinch at his comment, but he ignored it.

"I know it's not the type of thing most people like, but it offers a complex existentialist commentary that I find fascinating." He said quietly. "Look, Kurt I'm going to be honest with you. I don't have a lot of friends. I'm sort of quiet and most people seem to think I'm weird. I like you and I like hanging out with you. Or, I think I'd like hanging out with you." Jeff paused, looking at him sadly. "Please don't just write me off."

Kurt sighed. He had been planning to do just that.

"Look, not all the movies I watch are messed up. Why don't you and Blaine come over on Friday, and we'll watch the happiest french movie I know. You can write your report on it." Jeff said.

Kurt hesitated. He had liked hanging out with Jeff, and he hadn't really made any friends outside of Blaine… "Ok." He said.

Jeff smiled. "Great. I'll send you a facebook message with the directions to my house."

* * *

Friday at lunch, Blaine found Jeff sitting alone in the cafeteria. "Can I sit here?"

Jeff nodded, closing his laptop. "What's up? You've got a very 'we need to talk' look on your face."

Blaine smiled. "Yeah, actually I wanted to talk to you about what happened with Kurt. Namely, what happened?"

"He didn't tell you?" Jeff asked.

Blaine shook his head. "Nope. I mean he told me about it, sort of. I know _something_ happened. But he wasn't big with the details, and so I'm still a little curious as to why one moment he's calling you a depraved pervert, and the next were watching a movie at your house tonight."

Jeff sighed. "Well..I was watching a french movie called Irreversible, which is sort of known for being incredibly intense and disturbing...and Kurt came and started watching at the most disturbing scene. As many people would, he freaked out." Jeff said. "Although, he did freak out a bit more than most..."

"What happened in the scene?" Blaine asked.

Jeff bit his lip and looked at his feet. "Well...um, the main character was about to be raped by the antagonist..."

Blaine closed his eyes. "_What?_" He asked, trying to keep the anger in his voice down. He needed to remember that Jeff didn't know, and wouldn't have known not to let Kurt see that.

"I found him yesterday and apologized, and told him that not every movie I watch is horrible." He said quickly. "So you guys are coming over so I can prove that. I invited Nick too, I hope that's ok." Jeff said.

Blaine took a steady breath and nodded. "Alright...well, Kurt seems to have decided that you are _not_ in fact a sexual degenerate as he previously expected, and appears to be getting over whatever he saw in that movie... although he did tell me he watched 4 straight hours of Soap last night, to get the images out of his head." He smiled, and Jeff raised his eyebrows.

"What's Soap?" He asked.

"It's a sit-com from the 70's about two sisters and their dysfunctional and secret filled families." Blaine said.

"Sounds...original." Jeff said.

"No it was, actually, because the show itself is a parody of-," Blaine paused looking at the disinterested expression on Jeff's face. "You know what, it's really not important..." He said, and Jeff nodded.

Blaine was about to change the subject, and ask what he'd thought of his audition for the duet, but Jeff still looked like he had something to say.

"Um, Blaine..." He began quietly, forcing himself to look up at him. "I wanted to ask...Kurt is he...I mean was he…" Jeff sighed, looking uncomfortable. "I...I think I'm beginning to get a clearer idea of what happened to him. Kurt. What made him change."

Blaine went pale. "How's that..."

"I don't know...just how he reacted to that movie..." Jeff began.

"You said it yourself, his reaction wasn't unjustified." Blaine reminded him.

"No, I know...but it seemed to really get to him, you know? All the colour left his face, and I could practically hear his heart slamming into his chest..." Jeff shook his head. "He didn't even watch the whole thing...and he vomited."

"He's...sensitive." Blaine said lamely.

"And it's not just that…" Jeff continued. "That, uh, guy Jake is saying things. About Kurt."

Blaine stayed quiet, making a note to murder Jake later.

"Blaine?" Jeff said.

Blaine looked at him. "I don't know what to tell you, Jeff."

Jeff nodded. "Right, of course. That's fine."

"What's fine?" Kurt asked, appearing at the table with Nick.

"You." Blaine said instantly. Jeff took a moment longer to wipe the nervous expression off his face.

"Yes, I'm sure that's what you were saying." Kurt said, rolling his eyes and taking a seat. Blaine wrapped his arm around his waist, pulling him inward and kissing him on the cheek.

Kurt smiled. "What's with the PDA? Doesn't Dalton have some policy against mackin' in the caf?" He joked.

"Since Dalton is an all boys school founded and run by old fashioned conservative types, I'm going to say no." Jeff said.

Nick grinned. "The idea that boys can mack with boys would explode their brains."

"It exploded my brain, when I first heard the term 'gay' in 5th grade." Blaine said. "I was like 'really? You mean that's an option?' Changed my life forever."

"I always knew I was going to marry a boy. Prince Charming, specifically." Kurt said. "I had the entire ceremony planned by the time I was 9. It was going to be a very small chic affair, only his closest relatives and subjects. The ceremony would be held at the Royal Prince Church, something I was sure they had, and then back to the Castle's grande ball room for the reception."

"That, my dear boyfriend, is ridiculous." Blaine said seriously. "Eric from the little mermaid was way hotter."

"Please, that man was so fickle. '_Oh your voice is pretty, I love you! Oh wait, she's the one with the beautiful voice? I love her!_" He said.

"I think the fact that he has a name puts him higher up on my list." Jeff offered. "What would you call Prince Charming in bed?"

"Big P.C." Nick said.

"What if his P.C wasn't that big?" Kurt said, and Jeff and Nick laughed. Blaine just smiled, keeping Kurt pulled close to him.

* * *

For the last 23 minutes, Finn had been watching George pace around in a corner, walk up to where Paige sat drawing, open his mouth to speak, give up and go back to his corner to pace before Paige even noticed he'd come over. As amusing as it was, he _was_ considering saying something, or at least greeting him when he came over, when Corey came up to him to tell him he had visitors.

"Visitors? Like with an 'S'?" Finn asked, stunned.

"Yeah, like pural, genius." Corey said, shaking his head. Finn noticed he'd become more hostile towards him since the Lina incident, but he didn't know or care why. "Want me to let them in?"

"Who are they?" He asked, praying it wasn't Rachel and Puck.

"One's your mom, and ones an angry looking guy in a baseball cap." Corey said. "In or out?"

Finn's hearts raced. Baseball cap. Burt. "In, let them in."

"That's not your step dad, is it?" Paige asked, putting down her pad. In a corner, Finn saw George skulk away to the boys dorm.

"Yeah, it is." Finn said. He stood up as his mother and Burt entered the room. His mother smiled and came over to hug him, and Burt stood stiffly behind her.

"Hi Burt." Finn said. Burt nodded.

"Hello Paige, how are you, dear?" Carole asked, looking at what she was drawing.

"I'm pretty good." She said, and held up her pad for Carole to see. "It's going to be a unicorn, but it just sort of looks like a really happy pony right now. It's not finished."

"That's very good, actually." Carole said, impressed.

"You should see the drawing she did of Kurt." Finn said without thinking.

"You did a drawing of Kurt? How?" Carole asked.

"Oh, just from that picture you gave me. It's ok..." She said shyly.

Finn laughed. "'It's ok'? What happened to, 'this is my masterpiece, my swastika on Christoph Waltz' forehead'?"

Carole looked confused at this. "Yeah, don't worry I don't know what that meant either." Finn said.

Burt however, smiled and made a noise that was almost like a chuckle. "Inglourious Basterds?"

Paige nodded happily. "Very cute."

"Do you...want to see it?" She asked quietly. Carole glanced at Burt, who sighed.

"Sure." He said, and Paige beamed and ran off to get it. Burt smiled after her, but grew quickly grew stony again. "She seems nice." He said stiffly.

Finn nodded. "Yeah, she's basically the only thing that keeps me sane here. Well...keeps me something sort of like sane."

"How have you been doing, lately?" Carole asked, taking a seat at the table where Paige had been drawing. Burt sat down next to her, and Finn across from them.

"Well, it's been two weeks without an incident, or nightmare, so good I guess." Finn said, fiddling with his white bracelet.

"Maybe you just don't remember the nightmares." Burt said. "Kurt doesn't."

Finn shook his head. "That was happening for a while, but the guy who has the room next to mine is always kind enough to let me know when I make noise in my sleep. He said I've been quiet."

"Well, that's great." Carole said. Burt nodded, and readjusted his baseball cap. Finn smiled. He hadn't even realized he'd missed seeing Burt do that.

"Ok, here it is." Paige said, bouncing back to the table. She put the picture in front of them and jumped back, holding her arms behind her back.

"Oh..." Carole said.

Burt blinked. "Wow...it's really life like." He said, staring at it.

Finn looked at the table, not at the picture.

"What, you don't like it?" Burt asked.

Finn shook his head. "It's not that...it's..."

"Kurt looks really happy there, and Finn made him unhappy, and will be forever torturing himself for it, is the gist of his emotion." Paige supplied.

"Good." Burt said. "Keep torturing yourself."

Carole shot him a look, but Finn smiled. "I will. Always."

"He does look happy here..." Burt said, smiling. He sighed and looked at Finn. "You should know, he's happy again. He looks like this, again."

Finn's eyes went wide. "Really?" He and Paige said at the same time.

Paige grinned, embarrassed. "Um, yeah...I know, I'm much too emotionally invested in Finn's life. I'm going to go...watch TV..." She said, and then rushed over to Michael.

"So...he's happy?" He repeated. He felt an odd sensation, a combination of relief and disbelief.

Burt nodded. "He's singing again...not really in front of people, but at home and with Blaine...he's doing well."

Finn smiled. "Good, that's great. Really great."

They stayed for another half an hour so, talking about Finn's group therapy and his medication regime (which had been increased slightly since the Lina incident) and the general goings on of their lives. Before they left, Paige tried to give them her picture of Kurt, but they refused to take it, and Finn knew Paige was secretly relieved.

As they left, Burt turned around and looked at Finn. He cleared his throat. "Finn, it's uh...good to see that you're doing good, too." He said stiffly.

"Thanks, Burt." Finn said, and Burt gave him a small half-smile, and left.

Finn smiled, and a second later was attacked by Paige, shrieking excitedly for him.

**

* * *

**

**A/N: No, you don't need to watch Irreversible now. Take my word for it. **

**Can't Take my eyes off of You is a song by Frankie Vallie. **

**There is a light that never goes out is by the Smiths. Readers of "Everything" will recognize it because Sam sung it too Kurt right after the whole Marc Jacobs shirt slushie, Kurt trying to act less gay thing, when Rachel saved Kurt from **_**another **_**slushie and they took her to _Chant _for the first time_._ Wow my story sounds odd when you summarize it like that...what **_**have **_**I written?**


	16. Chapter 14

**A/N: This authors note was originally much bitchier, and I have revised it after leaving my bitchy mood. Now I am politely asking for feedback.**

**Out of curiosity, has the story sucked lately? I feel like it could be better...so really, if you feel there's been a decline in quality, tell me so and how to improve. I want to improve. I feel oddly directionless, which irks me. Suggestions for directions are welcome. I have a vague idea, but usually I know _exactly_ where my stories are going from the beginning. I have basic plot points in mind from the start...Lover's Tale was planned with every rape and sexual humiliation from the get go, down to Blaine confronting Kurt in the locker room, and then confronting Finn and then Finn trying to off himself and confessing to Burt. I've got a few more of these plot points in mind, but not enough that I feel confident of the direction. SO...**

* * *

Chapter 14:

Jeff didn't really want to know what happened to Kurt. He was fine with not knowing. He was fine with the half formed ideas in his head, probably much more dramatic than the real thing.

He was fine with over hearing Jake's comments, about how Kurt tried to touch him and told him he wanted to be raped. Jake's an idiot, and a liar and Jeff told him so.

But Jake just laughed and told him to believe what he wanted to believe. So fine, he would.

Irreversible was an intense movie, Kurt was a sensitive guy...lots of people could have reacted that way, for no reason. It didn't mean anything.

Jeff sighed, and ran across the gym to where his lacrosse team was standing. He was playing even less enthusiastically than usual today.

No matter how much he told himself it wasn't his business, and he didn't need or want to know, he couldn't stop thinking about it.

Couldn't stop thinking about how bright and bubbly Kurt used to be. Jeff had been able to tell he wasn't going to fit in with the Warblers right away. He had a fast, creative mind that would never mesh with their closed in structure. Truth be told, he'd liked that about him right away too.

Like his foreign films that defied the structure mainstream American cinema imposed on movies, Kurt defied the rigid structure of the Warbler's boring routines and regulations. It was a nice change. Although with the Warblers, anything new and different was like a gift from the heavens.

In his mind, Jeff had spoken to him right away and they'd become friends. Of course, in real life Kurt's colour and outgoing personality had intimated him. Kurt was cool, Jeff was...well kind of weird.

And then...suddenly Kurt was gone. It happened slowly, first he was just a little less there in class, and at Warbler's practice. He would come, he would look like he was singing...and he would leave. And when he showed up again, there would be a little less of him there.

Eventually he'd just stopped showing up altogether. He still saw him in class, but he wasn't really there either.

After a while, Jeff was a little ashamed to admit he'd stopped seeing him at all. He just sort of blended into the background, another face, another uniform.

But he was back now. Slowly the colour was coming back into his face, and his personality. He was singing with them at practice, making his voice heard again. He was laughing and joking, and now he was actually Jeff's friend.

So Jeff didn't care what had happened. Everything was fine now, or at least it was better in comparison to how it had been.

He didn't need to know what had occurred in Kurt's life that had taken all his colour and charisma away and made him hollow, and empty. He didn't care why boys in Kurt's gym class said he always waited for them to be finished before he took his shower. He was fine not knowing why Kurt still jumped when someone put a hand on his shoulder, and why his breath sped up if someone brushed against his hip in the hallway.

Really, he was fine.

* * *

_He had him pinned against the lockers, and as he smashed their mouths together, he trailed his hand along the inside of Kurt's leg. Kurt was afraid, afraid someone was going to walk in on them. The locker room was empty, but someone could walk in at any time. Finn didn't care. He needed him now and he didn't care about anything else. He tore Kurt's Dalton blazer off him and began to loosen his tie, and Kurt moaned against him. Finn couldn't tell if it was a moan of pain or pleasure, of terror or desire but he didn't care. He didn't care why Kurt was moaning as long as he was doing it._

_Kurt's mouth was a painful red, and right before he looked at Finn with wide, begging eyes. "Please don't do this. Not again." He whispered._

_But he didn't listen. He never listened._

Finn sat up in bed, sweating and breathing heavily. His chest felt tight and slammed his fist against the wall. Not again.

He felt like crying, and he pressed his palms against his eyes. The vividness of the nightmare was horrible, it was bright and alive inside of him. He could practically taste it in his mouth, and he could still hear Kurt's final words in his ears.

"_How could you do this to me again?"_ He'd asked that right before he'd woken up, broken on the floor of the locker room, but still sounding strong. Hurt, and disgusted, but strong.

He sat up and looked at the clock in his room. He had finally gotten the hang of reading it about a month ago, although he still thought analog clocks should be illegal.

It was 7:03 am, which meant they wouldn't have breakfast out yet, but he couldn't stay in his room any longer. He got off his bed and went out into the hallway, where Corey was coming around for checks.

"The fuck are you doing up so early?" Corey said.

"Couldn't sleep." He mumbled.

"More dreams about fucking your brother?" He smirked, poking his head into Georges room.

"Fuck off Gorey." He mumbled, turning to leave the hallway.

"'Oh fuck, Kurt, you're so fucking tight.'" Corey said, snicking. Finn froze. "'Why didn't you tell someone Kurt? Why didn't you stop me?'" Corey whined.

Finn grabbed him and shoved him against the wall. "Shut the fuck up." He seethed, but Corey just laughed.

"Oh, hit a nerve, did I?" He said, smirking. "Want me to hit it again?" He had a dark look in his eyes that made Finn suddenly not want to touch him. He let go, and Corey smiled. "Damn, and I was just beginning to enjoy it, too." He said, walking off down the hall.

Trying to keep his thoughts off how badly he wanted to punch Corey, Finn went out into the main room. He sat down on the couch, thinking this was the first time he'd ever seen the couch without Michael on it, and turned on the TV.

He sat there, not actually watching any of the images on the screen, but thinking about Kurt, and why he couldn't stop dreaming about him...and doing horrible things to him in those dreams. They were awful, worse than any nightmare he'd ever had...because they weren't just nightmares. There was reality behind them, all of them. They weren't replays of time he'd raped him, nothing had ever happened in the locker room at Mckinley (though he had spent a lot of time in there thinking about it), but they were reminiscent of what he had done. What he'd made Kurt do.

His eyelids felt heavy and threatened to close, but he wouldn't let them. He knew what he would see if he closed his eyes, and it wasn't something he cold stand. He didn't want Kurt like that anymore...or he didn't think he wanted him like that anymore. He hated that he'd ever wanted him like that.

* * *

Kurt, Blaine, Nick and Jeff walked to Jeff's house together after school on Friday. Jeff lived about 10 minutes from Dalton, and Blaine knew Kurt was incredibly jealous of how easy it was for him to get to school. Jeff lived in a nice house, something usual for kids attending the school, and Kurt smiled as they walked up the path to his house, where someone had planted blue, yellow and purple flowers all along.

"My mom, sort of a gardening nut." Jeff said. "She names her plants too, it's weird."

Nick smiled. "My mom named the tree in our backyard Gravy."

"I'm not going to ask why..." Jeff said, unlocking his front door and leading them in.

They filed down into Jeff's basement, and Blaine and Kurt sat down on a loveseat, while Nick flopped down on the couch next to it. Jeff went over to a shelf containing a large assortment of DVD's and removed one with a bright green cover, and began putting it in the player.

"Can I see the box?" Blaine asked. Jeff handed it to him, and Blaine was surprised that he recognized the title. "_Amelie_? I know this movie."

Jeff smiled. "Everyone knows this movie. It's one of the most successful foreign films in America."

"It's a love story." Kurt said, and Blaine tried not to cringe at his bitter tone.

"Sort of." Jeff said, sitting down in an arm chair. "It's much more than that."

"But theres a girl and boy and they fall in love after a long courting process and trials and tribulations that threaten to keep them apart but in the end, their love over comes all obstacles and they ride off into the sunset together?" Kurt said.

"...Maybe."

Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Why don't you give it a chance, maybe you'll like it?" Blaine said slowly. "It's from the director of 'City of Lost Children'...you liked that, right?" He looked at Kurt, trying to sound less desperate than he was. It must not have worked, because Kurt sighed and his expression softened.

"Fine. But it better be amazing." He said, and Blaine smiled broadly and flung his arms around him. He could see Kurt trying to suppress a smile of his own.

Thankfully, the movie was fairly amazing. It was quirky and charming, and extremely witty. Kurt still rolled his eyes and scoffed at the romance ("What, they just met but now they're in love? Who kisses like that?") but he had to admit he enjoyed it, over all.

"I'm not going to pretend that I don't want to say 'I told you so' because I really do so...I told you so." Jeff said cheerfully.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "It's not a huge accomplishment, you'd have to be soulless not to like that movie."

"I think I'm in love..." Nick said, and Kurt raised his eyebrows.

"No offense Nick, I mean your a cool guy and your eyes do compliment my skin tone, but I have a boyfriend." Kurt said, and Nick rolled his eyes.

"Not you. _Her_." He said, staring lovingly at the screen.

"What about my eyes?" Blaine pouted.

"It goes without saying that all of your features compliment mine perfectly, or we wouldn't be together." Kurt grinned.

"Cute, very cute." Blaine said.

"I'm going to marry her." Nick said decidedly.

"Maybe you should focus your attentions on a real girl." Jeff said gently.

"Right. I go to Dalton. There's none of them...everyone just assumes were all gay anyways." Nick scoffed.

"I met a girl last week." Jeff said. "She works at Starbucks and has shiny hair."

"Yeah?" Blaine said. "How'd you meet her?"

Jeff looked at the floor. "...I went into the Starbucks where she works and ordered a coffee. It had caramel in it."

Blaine tried not to laugh, but admittedly failed quite a bit. "Um...well have you gone back?"

Jeff shrugged. "I'm really not much of a coffee drinker, actually. It was sort of a sudden whim and need for caramel."

"Not for the coffee, for the girl." Kurt said, rolling his eyes.

Jeff stared at him blankly.

"See what we mean?" Nick said.

"I know a girl." Blaine said. They all stared at him.

"Bullshit." Nick said.

"It's true. She goes to Crawford." Blaine said.

Nick smacked himself on the forehead. "The King of the Gay Prep-Boys knows a girl, of course."

Offended, Blaine opened his mouth to reply, but Kurt placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "It's true sweetie. You are King of the Gay Prep-Boys. Now why do you know a girl?"

Blaine shrugged. "I met her at a mixer. She spilled coffee all over my uniform, and then accidentally touched my crotch trying to clean it up. Then she ran away, and so began a wonderful friendship."

"That's the best story I've ever heard." Nick said.

"It's the most unfair story I've ever heard." Jeff muttered.

"Dalton has mixers? With girls?" Kurt said.

"We used to, but the officials thought people might stop thinking we were all gay then." Nick said. Kurt raised his eyebrows. "...joke..."

"Jeff, I need the song machine!" A small blond girl said suddenly, running down the basement stairs. She looked to be about 5 years old, and had a slight lisp.

"My friends are here, Kylie." Jeff said, walking over and lifting her up.

"I thought you didn't have any friends because you were a fweak." She said.

Jeff blushed.

"We like that he's a freak." Kurt supplied. "We're freaks too."

"Freaks are cool." Blaine added.

"O-kay." She said, then turned back to Jeff. "I need the song machine."

"She means the karaoke machine. She got it for christmas last year, it's hooked up to the TV down here." Jeff explained.

"Oh, Karaoke!" Nick cheered. "Please Jeff, Please!"

"Yeah, pwease Jeff?" Kylie said, pouting.

Jeff glanced at Blaine, who glanced at Kurt, who shrugged. "Sure, why not..."

"Yay!" She said, jumping out of Jeff's arms. She ran over to the couch to the TV, but stopped when she saw Kurt. Then she held her arms behind her back and looked at the floor. "Hi. I'm Kylie." She said quietly, and Kurt smiled.

"I'm Kurt." He said, extending his hand for her to shake.

She blushed. "You're pwitty." She looked up excitedly then. "Will you sing a song wif me? Oh I know the bestest one in the world by Bwitney Speas it's sooo good I wuv her." She gushed, and began setting the machine up.

Kurt smiled. "I once got sent to the principle's office in my old school for wanting my Glee Club to sing Britney Spears."

"They sent to the principle's office for wanting to sing Britney Spears?" Blaine asked. "The same school that let you get thrown into dumpsters and harassed without intervening?"

Kurt shrugged. "I may have also called the teacher uptight."

"Nice." Nick said. "What happened?"

"Nothing. Eventually he decided that I was right and we sung Toxic at an assembly. Everyone broke out into a sex riot."

"I would have loved to have seen that." Blaine said, laughing.

Kurt cringed and shook his head. "No, you really wouldn't."

"O-kay, it's weddy." Kylie announced, pulling Kurt to his feet by his hand.

"Can we sing too?" Blaine asked. Kylie thought this over for a minute, before shrugging.

"O-kay." She said. "But we only got two phones."

"Microphones." Jeff supplied.

"We could have figured that." Kurt said.

"It's starting!" Kylie squealed. "This is a song 'bout a girl named Lucky." She explained to them, as those very words appeared on the screen.

"_Early morning, she wakes up. Knock, knock, knock on the door._" Kurt and Kylie sang, both of them miming knocking on someone's door.

"_It's time for make up, perfect smile. It's you they're all waiting for,_" Blaine came in, and Kylie giggled.

"_They go; 'Isn't she lovely, this Hollywood girl?_'" Nick and Jeff sang passionately into the other microphone. "_And they say…_"

_She's so lucky, she's a star_

_But she cry, cry, cries in her lonely heart, thinking_

_If there's nothing missing in my life_

_Then why do these tears come at night?_

They sang the rest of the song together, each one trying to out do the others with dramatic expressions and belted verses.

_She is so lucky, but why does she cry?_

_If there is nothing missing in her life_

_Why do tears come at night?_

Kylie ran her finger down her face, to mime the crying, while Kurt put his head on her shoulder, pretending to sob onto it, and Blaine burst out laughing.

_She's so lucky, she's a star_

_But she cry, cry, cries in her lonely heart,_ (more fake crying from Kurt and Kylie)

_Thinking if there's nothing missing in my life_

_Then why do these tears come at night?_

_She's so lucky_

_But she cry, cry, cries in her lonely heart, thinking_

_If there's nothing missing in my life_

_Then why do these tears come at night?_

Blaine smiled, watching Kurt sing and goof around with Jeff's little sister. The lightness he felt was unbelievable, and the relief. Kurt was singing and laughing with his friends and it was no big deal.

He wasn't stupid, he knew everything wasn't suddenly going to be easy and perfect from now on. He knew Kurt wasn't finished dealing with what had happened to him...he knew he might never be finished with it. But this was good, he knew that too. If anything else, Kurt was singing in front of other people, and hardly even seemed to think about it. He was spending time with other people out of his house, and hardly seemed to possess any of the fatigue he usually exerted in a such a situation. Or claimed he would posses in such a situation.

He'd never agreed to do anything outside either his or Blaine's house. This was definitely progress.

"Stop smiling at me like that." Kurt said, pulling him onto the couch.

"I can't help it, I'm happy when you're happy." Blaine said, pulling him foreword and kissing him. When he pulled back, a large pair of blue eyes were staring at him over Kurt's shoulder. _Kylie. Crap._

Looking shocked, she wrapped his arms around Kurt's neck and whispered loudly in his ear. "He kissed you! And he's a_ boy!_"

Kurt smiled at her, unsure of what to say.

"That's because Blaine is Kurt's boyfriend." Jeff explained. Blaine smiled weakly.

This information seemed to have a profound effect on Kylie, and her blue eyes went even wider. "You mean you can do that?" She asked Kurt. "You can kiss a boy if you're a boy?"

Kurt nodded. "Wow." She thought for a minute. "Can I kiss a girl?"

Jeff pulled at his tie. "Um, if you wanted." He said nervously.

"Cool! I'm going to tell Mom." She said, rushing off. Jeff flung himself onto the couch.

"I have no idea if I handled that right." He said.

"I think you did." Nick said. "It's good that she knows... so when she grows up it won't be weird. That's why people think it's weird, because they don't know until their old and then it's like 'what? That's weird!' but she won't think it is...and that's good. Because it's not."

"Well said Nick." Kurt said, smiling.

* * *

"So how is everyone?" Duncan said, smiling around.

"Patricia won't stop laughing again, and I can't sleep." Young muttered. "At least when she was crying, it was quiet."

"Yes but the FBI, they've stopped relying on you for information?" Duncan said.

She shifted around uncomfortably. "It is possible that I was misinformed, and was never really conspiring with them." She said stiffly. "Arrhgg get off of me!" She screeched, as Paige jumped on her.

"That's so GREAT!" She said, hugging her tightly.

"Finn, do something about your woman!" Young said, trying to push her off.

"She's not his woman." George said quietly. "She doesn't belong to him."

"Damn straight." Paige said, squeezing Young one more time before unleashing her. She slid back over to Finn, and wound her arm back around his. "But I wuvs him."

Finn smiled a little, and Paige rubbed his shoulder. He knew she could tell something was wrong, and he was always grateful for her.

"Anyone else?" Duncan said, staring at Finn.

He sighed. "I had...another nightmare. Last night." He mumbled.

"First one in a while." George said sympathetically. "It sounded bad...you were crying."

"Oh." He said, running his hand over his head. "I didn't realize...but yeah, it was bad." Paige hugged him again here.

"Well, Finn try and focus on the positive. I know those nightmares are upsetting for you, but that is a good thing. They're something unpleasant, and you recognize that, which is great." Duncan said, and Finn nodded. He'd heard that before. "And this is your first one in a while, which is also positive."

"I just hoped they'd stop." He said bitterly. "Since they adjusted my medication I haven't had one, and I just hoped they were over."

"It doesn't work like that." Paige said sadly.

"Yeah." He muttered.

"Was it...I mean did you...I mean." George blushed.

Finn blinked. "No. It was just a nightmare...I woke up...um...clean."

"Well that's bloody positive!" Duncan said, and Paige nodded enthusiastically.

"I guess..." He said quietly.

"It's great." Paige said. "Your body isn't mistaking it for something sexually arousing anymore, which is fantastic improvement."

"Very well said Paige." Duncan said.

"I just...I want it to be over." Finn said, pulling his knees up to his chin. "I can't do it anymore, I can't deal with it anymore. It's enough already." He felt a lump rise in his throat, and tried to swallow it down. He was done with crying, too.

"That's good Finn." Duncan said. "Tell yourself that. You're not doing this anymore. You're done with those nightmares, and you're done with your body trying to control you. You need to tell yourself that _you_ are putting yourself_ back_ in control."

"I can't." He said, hating the way his voice broke. "I can't control anything."

"Sure you can." Paige said softly, and he looked at her. He knew she was thinking about how he'd stopped himself from hurting her...he had controlled himself then, sort of. He hadn't let himself hurt her.

And he wasn't going to let himself hurt Kurt anymore either.

* * *

**A/N con't: So to go over the bitchfest up above, review telling me where you would like to see the story go. I can't guarantee it will go there, but suggestions may spark inspiration.**

**Fun fact, when I typed "bitchfest" my spellcheck changed it to "bitterest", which I guess works too.**

**Another fun fact, I haven't mentioned it in the story yet, but Paige's last name has always been "Henderson". I had no idea where this name came from, but that has been her name since Lover's Tale. On Wednesday in class, I found out Paige Henderson is a classmate of mine. Weirdest thing ever, sitting in class and hearing someone call the name of your OC on the attendance list.**

**Also, next chapter, expect Claudia to be back, because I miss her.**


	17. Chapter 15

Chapter 15:

Finn walked into the dining room for lunch, still feeling numb. He was determined to stop his nightmares, but he really didn't think just telling himself he could was enough. Just because he wanted it to, didn't mean anything was going to change.

Nothing ever changed here.

Barely noticing what was for lunch, Finn took a seat next to George. "Hi." He said quietly.

George nodded, appearing to be deep in thought. He was absentmindedly eating a bag of chips, and staring off into space. It took Finn a few minutes to really register the significance of what he was seeing, and he quickly got up and left. A few minutes later, he had dragged Paige back in with him.

"What?" She asked, looking around the room. "This better be important, because Miley just called over Jesse, even though he only knows her as Hannah and I want to see- oh, my god." She said, finally seeing George. "George!" She squealed, and he looked up.

"What?" He asked, sounding nervous.

Paige squealed excitedly and rushed over to him. She planted herself in his lap and reached her arms around him, hugging him tightly. George's eyes went wide and his body ridged. "What did I do?" He asked, sounding excited.

Finn laughed. "It's the chips."

George furrowed his brow. "Chips?" His eyes went wide again and he dropped the bag he was holding. "Oh god..."

"No!" Paige said, still sitting in George's lap. "Just breathe, it's fine. You were just eating the chips randomly, and that's good."

"No, it's not." George panicked.

"Yes, it is." Paige said firmly, placing her hands on George's shoulders. "This is great. You're great." She said, and kissed him quickly on the cheek. George's entire face went instantly pink and a dopey smiled spread across his face. "Ok?"

"Okaayy..." He mumbled, smiling stupidly. Patting him on the back, Paige jumped off his lap and went to get something to eat.

"I wish I had a camera." Finn said, sitting back down next to him. "You look like an idiot."

George shrugged. "I don't care." He smiled and touched his cheek. "And I am strongly considering never washing this cheek again."

* * *

Kurt sat in Claudia's waiting room, tapping his foot nervously. He hadn't seen her since before his weekend with Blaine, and he was excited to be able to finally talk about it, in a way that didn't involve censoring the best parts. His Dad had told him Claudia already knew he had spent the weekend with Blaine, and he was looking forward to being able to skip right into the details.

"So, I haven't seen you for a while...things are going ok?" Claudia asked when he was called in, trying to keep from smiling.

"Oh yeah. You know, average." Kurt replied.

"These walls are sound proof, for the record." Claudia said lightly.

"Interesting..." Kurt said, glancing around casually. "Ohmigod there were freakin flowers everywhere and the whole house smelled like vanilla!" Kurt exclaimed loudly, jumping to his feet. "And... HE GAVE ME A FREAKIN BLOW-JOB AND IT WAS THE _BEST THING EVER!_"

"Oh, is that all?" Claudia asked, biting back a grin.

"No!" He twittered. "And afterwards he just held me and told me he loved me, and I told him I loved him because I _do_ and it was great and I felt so fucking relieved it was like, I don't know...like everything was just light, and ok and I didn't need to be in pain anymore. I can't explain it…" He said, collapsing back in his chair.

"Well, maybe all that time you were hurting yourself in order to release your sexual frustration, it wasn't relieving you as much as you thought. So this has been building up for a while now..." Claudia smiled. "I would imagine the orgasm would be quite spectacular."

Kurt grinned. "It was so good, I don't even care about how awkward that sentence was."

"Wow, pretty good then."

He nodded. "And the next day he sang 'Your body is a Wonderland' by John Mayer, and he was shirtless, and just in these old beat up jeans, and his hair was all messy and _so curly_ and it was unbelievably sexy." He continued.

Claudia raised her eyebrows. "It certainly sounds sexy. Blaine should offer a class to other boyfriends around the world, sort of a how-to type deal. They could learn." She smiled for a moment, and then let it drift off her lips, growing solemn. "Now, I have to ask, has there been any Finn-torture-masturbation sessions since?"

Kurt shook his head. "No...the last time I...masturbated," He said, cringing visibly at the word. "I was thinking about Blaine...and how he felt holding me, and touching me..."

"And how did that go?" Claudia prodded.

He shrugged. "Mixed results, I guess. It's hard not to hurt myself...it took a long time." He admitted. "Luckily I have plenty of ammunition." He said, grinning.

"Good, that's very good Kurt." She said, smiling again. "And if you're having trouble getting used to touching yourself gently, I would suggest getting some pointers from Blaine."

Kurt giggled and Claudia looked stunned. "Did you just giggle?" Kurt nodded, another giggle escaping. "My my," She said, raising her eyebrows and looking impressed. "That must have been_ some_ blow job you got."

He nodded enthusiastically. "And that's not all." He said, biting his nails and trying to hold back another giggle. "I gave him one too."

"Really?" She asked, her eyebrows disappearing further behind her black bangs. "And how did that go?"

Kurt closed his eyes. "This may sound weird, but it was great." He opened them again, and smiled. "He just stroked my hair, and moaned softly...he didn't force my head down further, or try and thrust himself forward...he didn't hurt me at all."

"Of course he didn't Kurt, that's how it's supposed to be." She said softly.

"I know...I know that. I guess I just didn't believe it until..." He grinned. "I didn't swallow either. I spit it out. It was awesome."

"Fucking A, you spit it out!" She said slamming her hand onto her desk to emphasize her point. "That stuff is nasty."

He giggled. "I know. I hate it."

She smiled, and glanced down at her clipboard. "As much as I would love to continue discussing this with you, as we have not gone into nearly enough detail for me, we have a lot to catch up on. However, we will return to this later, ok?" She said, and Kurt nodded.

"Now, besides your _uber_-sexy weekend with what sounds like the worlds most unfairly perfect boyfriend, how have you been feeling?" She asked.

Kurt shrugged. "Good, over all. I had a minor panic attack at the beginning of the week when we were out of Blackberry Jam and I really wanted some on toast...but that passed when I realized I could just get more...and then I had a not-so minor one in the middle of the week. I vomited...but it was ok..."

"Elaborate?" She asked, moving her hand in circles.

"Well, you know my friend Jeff?" He asked.

"Jeff Stille, quiet, possibly weird, likes foreign films?" She asked, reading off her clipboard. Kurt nodded. "He's a friend now?"

"Yeah...he was before, sort of..." Kurt mused.

"Yes but before, friends consisted of people Blaine tried to force you to interact with. Is this still the case with Jeff?" She asked.

"No, he's a friend. And he's not possibly weird, he's definitely weird, but in an endearing way. Nick too."

"Nick Moretti, very enthusiastic and difficult to understand?"

"Yup. Both becoming friends I actually like." He said.

"Something we will address in a moment." She said, beaming. "But first, panic attack and Jeff?"

"Right. Well, he's in my french class, and we need to do an essay in french on a french movie, which he said he would help me with. On Wednesday I saw him in the cafeteria, and he was watching the movie he'll be doing on his laptop." Kurt said. "It was called 'Irreversible'."

At the mention of the name, Claudia froze. "You're kidding."

"No. Why, do you know it?"

"Yes, and dear _god_ that is not a movie you should be watching." She said, her eyes wide. "That's not a movie anyone with a soul should be watching."

"You don't have a soul?" Kurt asked.

"Kurt, consider who I deal with on a daily basis." She said. "Sex addicts, pedophiles, rapists, necrophilliacs and a myriad of different combinations of the above listed. I need to listen to their stories and discuss appropriate solutions with them. I literally cannot afford to have a soul."

"That's unfortunate." He said sadly.

She shrugged. "That's why I enjoy talking to you so much." She said brightly.

"Aww."

"So, what did you see? Please tell me it didn't involve an underpass." He nodded. "Well, that's fucking brilliant."

"Yeah, Jeff said I came in at the worst part. Anyways, I watched for a few minutes, freaked out and puked in the bathroom. Jeff came in after me, and I told him to get away from me and I ran off. Then I watched Soap for the next ever."

"And?" She pressed.

"I was...upset for a little, to say the least. I thought Jeff was insane for liking that stuff, and I was disgusted. However, the next day Jeff apologized and explained that Irreversible is film only a few people will like, and he told me he really wanted to be my friend and asked for another chance." He said.

"And you gave him one?"

"Yeah. Blaine, Nick and I went to his house and watched Amelie." He said. "I liked that movie much better."

"Good. Only watch happy films from now on." She instructed.

"I intend to."

"Ok, back to your friends." Claudia continued. "Hanging out with them, how did that go? Did you get tired, or feel panicked?"

Kurt shook his head. "No, I was surprised...but I had a really good time. We sang Karaoke with Jeff's little sister, and may have accidentally turned her into a lesbian."

"That's great." She said, beaming. "This is really fucking good, Kurt. You're making amazing progress."

He smiled. "It feels like it...I feel good, mostly. My Dad and Carole have been looking less nervous in the mornings, which leads me to believe I've been having less nightmares, and I'm making friends outside of Blaine, which seems to be really important for some reason."

"We've discussed that it's not healthy for your relationship to put so much pressure on him." Claudia reminded him.

"I know..." He sighed.

"Now, I'm thrilled at how well your doing...but we still need to discuss some unpleasant matters." She said, looking at her clipboard. "Jake Minaccia; tall, dark and threatening...what's happening with him?"

Kurt closed his eyes. He was hoping she would have forgotten about him. "Ok, just remember, this happened before my weekend with Blaine and things have been really great since then."

"Ok..." She said slowly.

"I ran into him in the washroom." He said quietly. "He was acting like he always did, making stupid comments about how I'm a fag...I warned him he had to stop of he'd get expelled. Then he told me that was what he wanted...to get expelled. But he didn't know if he'd actually have to rape me to do it..." he looked at Claudia, who had a calm and expectant look on her face. He wondered if that was the look she wore when people told her about how they'd had sex with their dogs. "And...I think something in me might have snapped. Remember how you said I might not have been satisfying myself enough? Possibly that was true...and possibly Finn looks like Jake..."

"What did you do?" She asked calmly.

"I told him that that was what I wanted, and I put my hand between his legs and kissed him..." He practically whispered.

"And?"

"He kissed me back for about a second, then pushed me against the wall and ran away. I curled up on the floor and cried, and while later Blaine found me. I told him what happened, and I swear I thought he was going to leave me..." Kurt paused here, remembering the knot he'd in his chest and how incomprehensible that idea had been to him. "But he didn't. I think it made him realize that those um..._urges_, I've been having aren't going away. They were getting worse..."

"And so he decided to do something about it?" Claudia asked. Kurt nodded slowly. "That's very mature of him..."

Kurt smiled. "Yeah, he's very mature for his age, in some ways." He laughed a little. "But then, he still secretly loves the Care Bears. It's part of why I love him..."

"Kurt, I wish you'd come see me when this had happened with Jake." She said gently. "But I'm glad you and Blaine have worked through it and are doing so great now. But what about Jake? Have you spoken to him since?"

"No. I don't want to be near him..." He said bitterly. "But...Blaine says he's telling people. Telling people I touched him." Kurt thought for a moment. "Well, he's telling people I tried to touch him. I guess he's too embarrassed to go with the truth."

"Do you think you could talk to him, reason with him?" She asked.

"No, I think he's nuts. And I don't want to be alone with him again." He said instantly.

"Well, if I were to suggest you speak with him, I would say to do so in a very public area, surrounded by students and preferably teachers." She said. "Perhaps pull him aside to a table in the cafeteria...but if you don't think talking to him will help…"

"No." He said immediately.

"I didn't say anything."

"But you're thinking it, and the answer is no. I'm not telling on him." He snapped, crossing his arms.

"Kurt, what he said to you was not ok. You need to realize that people can't just treat you like that. He had no right, and you should not let him get away with it." She said.

"I can't say anything!" He cried. "He didn't touch me, right? But I touched him. If they expel him they'll expel me."

Claudia sighed. "Well, hopefully then Jake will just shut up eventually. If he doesn't, you're going to have to either talk to him or consult an authority figure. You can't just let him talk about you behind your back."

"Can too..." Kurt mumbled.

Claudia opened her mouth to respond, but the small beeping of a timer interrupted her. They only had five minutes left in their session. She sighed. "This conversation is not over, but I don't want to leave things like this." She said gently, and gave a small smile. "So, final question of the day; Blaine's penis; awesome or mega-awesome?"

Kurt smiled, and looked a the ground. "More like super-mega-foxy-awesome-hot." *

"I knew it." She said, raising her hand up for a high five.

* * *

"You gotta stop hating yourself." Michael said, out of the blue. They were watching a rerun of Wizards of Waverley Place, but only Paige and George seemed to be paying attention.

"What?" Finn asked.

"You had another nightmare last night, right?" He said, staring at the screen.

"How did you know?"

"Was going to the bathroom last night, passed your room, heard nightmare sounds. That's not gonna stop if you don't stop hating yourself." He said simply.

"How do you know?"

"I got nightmares too. You know how I get a little angry sometimes?" He asked.

"If by a little angry, you mean you go hulk-smash, then yeah, I do." Finn replied.

"Right well, before I came here, one time I was having a...you know, incident or whatever...I attacked my Mom. Bad." He cast his eyes downward, away from the flickering screen. It was the most emotion (besides anger) Finn had ever seen him display. "So I have nightmares about that. Mostly it's just reliving it, sometimes small things are different...details change. But it's still the same..."

Finn nodded. "Yeah, I know."

"Anyhow, my therapist is always telling me I gotta stop hating myself, because my nightmares are my subconscious or something fuckin with me. But I was like 'I can't forgive myself, cuz what I did doesn't deserved to be forgiven' right?"

"Yeah." He mumbled.

"But he said I had to and blah and a bunch of reasons and stuff about getting better and shit...so after a while I started to hate myself just a little less. I mean, I think I'll always hate myself for what I did just a little, but the less I hate myself...the less nightmares I have." He finished.

"How do you stop hating yourself?" Finn asked.

"I dunno...you just do. Maybe hate your illness instead." He suggested. "I think that's what I do...honestly I'm not very introperspective."

"Intro_spective_, not intro_perspective_." George said. He was pretending to watch TV, but Finn knew he was really watching Paige.

"Go sort something into 13." Michael snapped.

"He doesn't need to." Paige said, smiling at him.

George blushed. "Right...I do not need to." he said, sounding incredibly unsure. "Yup...everything is totally fine."

"It is." Paige confirmed, leaning her head on George's shoulder. Finn smiled as he saw George stiffen, clearly holding in a spastic twitch. "And Finn, hating your illness sounds like a good idea. It's what made it so you could hurt Kurt like that, and it deserves to be hated."

"I dunno...how is that different from hating myself?"

"Cuz you're not your illness." Paige, George and Michael said at the same time.

"And you're not your job." Paige added. "You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet-"

"You're not your fucking khakis." Michael finished. "Nice one." **

"Couldn't let it sit there." She said, shrugging. "Back to Finn...you can't hate yourself forever-"

"Can too." He cut in.

"Fine, then you'll just have awful nightmares forever." She said. "Is that what you want?"

Finn sighed. "No...I can't handle them anymore."

Paige smiled. "Then you have to forgive yourself. What you did was terrible, unforgivable. So hate that. Hate what you did. But what you did isn't who you are, not anymore."

Michael nodded. "Fucking A, man."

* * *

* a "Very Potter Musical" reference.

**This is a line from the movie fight club

A/N: Crazy thankful amounts of thanks for everyone who reviewed to tell me that the story doesn't suck (I have issues with self doubt)! I wuvs you all. A lot of the suggestions were similar to what I already have planned, which leads me to believe that I'm going in the right direction. Frankly I am not personally impressed with this chapter, although I do feel more confident about the chapter I've already started after it.


	18. Chapter 16

Chapter 16:

Blaine was the type of person that liked to have a plan. An outline, if you will, for how things should go. He'd been developing a plan for Kurt's recovery ever since his talk with Dr. Sincere, and so far it had been going fairly well.

Most of his plans came with time limits, a number of days or weeks in which each phase would have to take place. This one hadn't, of course. Each phase took as long as it had too, and he only considered it completed when Kurt really seemed to have improved in someway. Usually it took a few weeks for him to decide Kurt was ready to move onto the next step. He'd rushed him into auditioning for the duet, and that was not a mistake his intended to repeat. The plan was to help Kurt, not to have Kurt stick to the plan.

And so when he was sitting in the Starbucks down the street from Mckinley high Monday after school, it was part of the plan. That didn't make him any less nervous. He was nervous for how Kurt was going to react, and nervous that it would send him backwards. But he knew this was important. Kurt couldn't run away from his old life forever, and Blaine was going to try and make him realize that he didn't have to.

He looked at the clock and sighed. She was late. His plan may not have a timeline, but that didn't mean he didn't appreciate punctuality.

To make matters worse, one of the last people in the world he wanted to see had just come in.

"Hey." Karofsky said, taking a seat at Blaine's table. "You're Kurt's friend, right?"

"Boyfriend." Blaine said, wondering where the hell that protective tone of voice had come from.

Karofsky smiled and nodded. "Good, that's good."

"Do you want something, David?" Blaine asked. "I'm meeting someone here soon..."

"Uh, yeah...uh I guess I wanted to um...apologize." He said quietly. "I've been thinking about going and seeing Kurt, but I have a feeling he wouldn't want to see me. I've been uh..doing a lot of thinking lately. After what happened..."

"What happened?" Blaine cut in. Karofsky couldn't know.

"What happened with Finn." He said, fidgeting in his seat. "It really...it made me think, you know."

"Why?"

Karofsky looked at him for a moment, as though trying to decide if he was making fun of him. "I was the one who found him." He said finally. "When he tried to...I was the one who found him."

"Oh."

Karofsky nodded again, looking pained. "Yeah...it was bad. He was in a steamer tub, and it was filled up with water...and his blood." He swallowed painfully. "I still dream about it sometimes. I can hear the dripping of the tap, and the fucking smell...it's still in my nose." He looked at Blaine. "Ever since, I've been sort of trying to change. Like, I look at Finn and what happened to him, and I'm like 'I don't want to end up like that'. And if I kept going the way I was going, always angry and miserable all the time...I was fucking going to, you know?"

Blaine nodded. "Have you, uh, come out?"

Karofsky smiled and shrugged. "Somewhat. To my parents, and you know, myself and shit. And um," he smiled again here, "I'm seeing someone. And they just came out to their parents, so we figure we're going to come out together...soon."

"Wow, Dave that's great." Blaine said, surprised but pleased for him.

"Yeah...but um, I still feel...fucking terrible about Kurt. What I did to him..." he shook his head. "How I treated him... Fuckin unforgivable, huh?"

Blaine shrugged. "I don't know about that...it was bad, but recently things have happened in his life that might put what you did into perspective."

He shook his head again. "Just because something worse might have happened, doesn't make what I did any less bad." Blaine nodded. "But I want you to tell him, that if he ever wants to come back, to McKinley, he won't be getting any trouble from me. And I'll do my best to keep the rest of them away too." He said, standing up.

"I'll tell him that, Dave." Blaine said. Dave smiled and left, just as Mercedes walked in.

* * *

Finn was watching TV with Michael, Paige and Tiffany when he told them. Up until then, they hadn't seen George all day. He came up to them and announced his presence in the usual way (not saying anything and giving them all heart attacks when they noticed he was there).

"Geez, George." Paige said, clutching her chest when she finally noticed George sitting next to her on the floor. "How long you been there?"

George shrugged. "Couple minutes."

"You gotta say something dude." Finn said, shaking his head. "I almost shit my pants."

"Ew." Tiffany said, inching away from him on the couch.

"It's a figure of speech." Finn said, rolling his eyes.

"An 'ew' figure of speech." Tiffany said, fiddling with a blond pigtail.

"I knew he was there." Michael said simply.

"How, you never take your eyes off the TV!" Tiffany pointed out.

"And yet I see everything." Michael said eerily, and Paige giggled.

"Can I talk to you?" George asked quietly.

"You can always talk to me, man." Finn said, clapping George on the shoulder.

"I was talking to Paige, but I'm glad to know that." George said.

"Sure, whats up?" Paige asked, looking at George.

George sighed and put his hand on Paige's, which was resting on the floor. "You know in the Shawshank Redemption, when Brooks grabs Heywood and holds a screwdriver to his throat?"

"Uh huh." She said, bobbing her head.

"Well, do you remember why he does it?" George asked quietly.

"Because his sentence was up, and if he didn't kill Heywood they were going to send him away." She replied. Then she furrowed her brow.

"Right. And he was afraid of being on the outside...he'd been in Shawshank so long, it was all he knew anymore. And there were things in there he was afraid to give up, and say goodbye to..." He said, looking at her sadly.

Paige looked at him, her eyes wide. "George..they're not...are they?" Paige asked, sounding distressed.

George nodded, and Paige looked pained for a moment. "I mean...well that's great." She added.

"What?" Finn asked. "What's happening?"

"They're sending me home, is what's happening." George said quietly.

"What?" Tiffany repeated.

"How?" Finn asked.

"When?" Michael said.

"We just discussed 'what'. They're sending me home, is what." George said dryly. "My therapist gave them the go-ahead is how, and at the end of the week, is when."

* * *

"So, you gonna tell me why I'm here, Prep Boy?" Mercedes asked, taking a seat. Blaine forced himself to keep the smile on his face, despite the fact that she was 20 minutes late and behaving incredibly rude.

"I wanted to talk to you about Kurt." He said. "I want you to go see him."

She raised an eyebrow and gave him a look. "You're kidding, right?"

"No, not at all." He said uncomfortably. Being around Mercedes always made him feel awkward and out of place. He felt like they were speaking two completely different languages, and it never failed to throw him off.

"Right, I forgot. They don't teach 'kidding' at Gay Hogwarts. No time between 'Hair Gel 101' and 'Introduction to Stepford Husbanding.'" She snapped. "Listen, I haven't seen or heard from my former boy Kurt in months, and now you want what from me? He transferred to Dalton, joined the ranks of the Robotic Prep Kids and never looked back. Why would I want to see him?"

"Well when was the last time you called him, huh?" Blaine said, narrowing his eyes. "Where were you when he needed you? Your friend stops calling you and you just accept that? You don't think, 'hey, maybe something's wrong. Maybe I should go check up on my supposed BFF and make sure everything's ok!'"

"Ok, one: Do not say 'BFF'. No one says that but 13 year old girls and soccer moms." Mercedes said. "And two, what are you trying to say? Did something happen to Kurt?"

Blaine sighed. "I can't tell you that."

She looked at him for a moment, clenching her jaw. "Right. I'm out." She said, standing up.

"No, Mercedes please." Blaine said, grabbing her arm. "Please, just hear me out."

Grudgingly, she sat down again. "Why can't you tell me?"

"Listen, Mercedes, I know I'm asking a lot of you." Blaine said. "But you need to trust me when I tell you that Kurt needs you. He needs his old friends, and some part of his old life back. He can't run away from it forever, and thats what he's been doing for a while now."

"So you want me to go see Kurt, but I can't ask him why he stopped talking to me for so long?" She said, her eyes narrow.

"Basically. I don't want you to ask him any questions at all, actually." Blaine said slowly.

"Are you kidding?" She asked.

"I thought we already covered that they don't teach that at Gay Hogwarts." Blaine said.

"Cute. Very cute." She said, not sounding amused. "Blaine I don't think I can do that...I mean what could possibly be so bad that he couldn't tell me about it?"

Blaine looked at her sadly. "Please Mercedes?"

She sighed. Blaine could knew that she must miss Kurt too, or she wouldn't still be here. "When should I go see him?"

* * *

"You're not just going to leave without doing anything, are you?" Finn asked, watching George pack up his things. "For god sakes man!"

"What would be the point of telling her how I feel now?" George said simply. "I'm leaving, I'll probably never see her again...there's no good outcome. If I tell her and she feels the same way well then I leave knowing we could have had something and now we never will. If she doesn't feel the same way, I leave hopelessly rejected." He folded a pair of pants and put them in his suitcase.

"George that's not the- stop packing, it's driving me nuts." Finn said, putting his hand over George's suitcase. "You're not leaving until Friday, why are you doing this now?"

"I need to get used to the idea of leaving." He said, gingerly moving Finn's hand away from his things. "Having my belongings packed will help with that."

"Whatever. Look the point is, you need to tell Paige that your basically in love with her because she deserves to know." Finn continued.

"I think she knows. At least, she knows I have feelings for her." George replied.

"Ok but knowing in your mind or heart or something and having someone tell you is totally different!" Finn said.

"How so?" George asking, looking at him patiently.

"Well, cuz...because if you..." Finn furrowed his brows. "It just is."

"Finn, no offense, but you're not exactly the worlds foremost expert on romance and love." George pointed out.

"I know that, I'm fucking spaz when it comes to my own relationships, but this is someone else's so I feel a lot more confident about how things should be done."

"How nice for you." George said dryly.

"You're going to regret not telling her forever." Finn said. "And ever, and ever, and ever..."

George closed his eyes. "Finn, I need to pack and you're making it extremely difficult. I know I'm going to regret it, probably for a very long time but it's whats going to happen and you are not going to annoy me into changing my mind."

Finn looked at George quietly for a moment. "...and ever, and ever, and ever..."

George flashed his eyes angrily at him, and Finn thought he was about to yell when Corey interrupted them. "Checks." He said, looking into the room. When he saw Finn in there, he smiled "Oh look, Finn made himself a butt buddy." He sneered.

"What an incredibly distasteful statement." George said, wrinkling his nose.

"You trying to get in on that before it's gone?" Corey said, gesturing to George.

"I can hear you." George said. "I'm right here."

"Fuck off Gorey." Finn sneered.

"Alright, but if I hear noises I'm going to need to intervene." He said, snickering to himself as he closed the door again.

"Fucking hate that guy." Finn mumbled.

"He certainly has a weird interest in you." George said. "Does that unnerve you?"

"He freaks me out, yeah." Finn said. "He gives me the weirdest looks."

"You should see the looks he gives you when you can't see him looking at you." George said, zipping up his suitcase.

"The fuck does that mean?" Finn asked, his eye wide.

"Well, I think I might have caught him staring at your backside a few times..." He muttered, avoiding eye contact.

"And you didn't feel like sharing this with me before?" Finn yelped.

"I didn't want to alarm you."

"Well that's great I appreciate that." Finn said. "But guess what I am now!"

"I feel like the answer you're looking for is 'alarmed', but I'm going to say 'happy' because it's a more positive emotion." George said.

"Now is not the time for you to develop a sense of humor..." Finn mumbled.

* * *

"So my Dad just called, and he says we can pick what they order for dinner tonight." Kurt said, resting his head on Blaine's shoulder. Blaine had come with him after school, and Kurt was feeling very good. Not giddy over the moon good, but content. He felt like he hadn't spent time alone with Blaine in a while, and although he liked the idea of having an actual group of friends again, he missed spending time with him when they didn't have to try and block out Nick and Jeff arguing about who would win in a fight, some clown from one of Jeff's french films or Ernest P. Worell while they tried to make out.

"Wonderful. What are the odds you'll let him eat Italian?" Blaine teased.

"What are the odds you can find a dish not drenched in some heart attack inducing sauce?" Kurt replied.

Blaine sighed. "Greek it is."

"Oh come on now, you like felafel." Kurt said, poking him in the shoulder and pouting.

Blaine smiled. "I do indeed." He said, putting his hand under Kurt's chin and leading his mouth towards him. He kissed him softly for a moment, then pulled back. "I need to talk to you about something..." He said, as the doorbell rang. Kurt looked towards the door and heard Blaine mumble "Of course, now she's early..."

He turned back to Blaine and raised his eyebrows. "Now _whose_ early?" He asked. Blaine bit his lip and took Kurt's hands in his.

"Kurt, you know that everything I do, I do because I love you and I want the best for you, right?" Blaine said.

"Yeah..." Kurt said, getting up to answer the door. Blaine stood up with him, still holding onto his hand.

"Ok, just um, keep that in mind..." He said as they opened the door.

"Hi Kurt." Mercedes said, giving him a small wave. Kurt turned to Blaine, his eyes full of shock and hurt._ You bastard..._he thought. He looked at Blaine for an explanation, and Blaine cringed apologetically.

"Remember what we were just talking about?" He said quickly, putting his hands on Kurt's shoulders. "About how much I love and want nothing but the best for you."

Without thought, Kurt turned and stormed into the kitchen. His chest ached and he felt trapped and panicked. He couldn't believe Blaine had done that to him. He _knew_ he didn't want to see Mercedes, didn't want to see anyone from before. He couldn't. They would see he was different and they would_ know_ and that _couldn't happen._

"Kurt, please!" Blaine said, following him into the kitchen.

Kurt stood at the counter, flexing his hands angrily, wishing he had somewhere further to storm off to. The room felt small, the house felt small and everything felt like it it was pushing in on his chest. "How could you, Blaine?" He asked, his voice sounding pathetic even to his own ears. He sounded like a small, hurt child afraid of the dark.

"I know you didn't want to see her, but it's important." He said, trying to take Kurt's hand. Kurt yanked it away from him, ignoring the hurt look Blaine gave him.

"Why is it important, huh? I've been doing fine lately, haven't I? Why can't that be enough for you?" He cried. "Am I ever going to better enough for you?"

"It's not about that!" Blaine said frantically. "I don't want you to get better for me, I want you to get better for you. You can't run away to your old life forever, Kurt."

"Why not? Why the hell not?" He screamed. "So what if I don't want to see my old friends? Like it or not Blaine, I've changed. I'm different now and you know it, so stop pretending that one day I'm going to be just like I used to. I will _never_ be the same as before, no matter what happens or how much 'progress' you think I've made."

"I know that Kurt." He said softly. "I know you've changed, and I accept that. But you haven't changed nearly as much as you think you have. You're still the same person, a little different, a little worn around the edges, but still the same." He said, reaching for Kurt's hand again. Kurt flinched, but didn't jerk it away.

"You don't know that..." he mumbled, letting Blaine pull him into is arms.

"I can see that." Blaine whispered, wrapping his arms around him.

"I..." Kurt began, but lost his train of thought as Blaine hugged him tightly. There was so much desperation in the hug, Kurt began to feel his anger and hurt slip away almost immediately. He could practically feel Blaine begging him not to be angry, to understand why he'd done it. The logical part of his mind knew it wasn't because Blaine wanted him to panic and feel trapped, even though that's how he felt. If Blaine had brought her here, it was because he thought it would be good for him. He sighed. "Blaine...it's...fine." He said quietly.

Blaine let a huge sigh of relief and hugged him tighter. "Oh thank god. I just want you to be ok again, Kurt." He said quietly, pulling back from the hug and kissing him."You don't need to be the same as before, but you need to be ok." He whispered. Kurt held onto the front of Blaine's uniform and kissed him back, temporarily forgetting that Mercedes was there.

Hearing her enter the kitchen, Kurt snapped back to reality. He took a deep breath and turned to face his former friend. "Hi. Sorry about that." He said quietly, trying to keep his voice from shaking. He hoped she wouldn't ask what that had been about.

She held up her hands. "Hey, don't let me stop you. That was all kind of fine." She said, grinning. Kurt breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that she wasn't asking questions. He smiled, realizing how much he actually did miss her.

He bit his lip and opened his arms up, and she stepped into them, hugging him tightly. "Damn, I missed you 'Cedes." He said, resting his head on hers.

"I missed you too baby-face." She said, squeezing him.

"And I'm so glad no one's mad at me." Blaine said, wrapping his arms around them both.

"Kinda ruining the moment, Curly Sue." Mercedes said.

Blaine took a step back. "Sorry."

Kurt smiled, remembering calling Blaine Curly Sue when they'd woken up after spending the night together. It was odd hearing it in this context. Breaking up the hug, they all made there way out of the kitchen and back into the living room.

"So...I um, haven't seen you in a while, huh?" Kurt said nervously. He hoped she wouldn't ask him how he'd been, or what had happened in his life recently. He was an awful liar, and he couldn't handle her finding out.

"I know." Mercedes said, nodding. "But to make up for it, I came bearing loads of gossip from back at the WHMS ranch." She said, grinning.

He smiled again, and tried not to let his relief show on his face. "Do tell." He said, taking a seat with Blaine on the couch. He gripped Blaine's hand tightly for support, trying to remind himself that there was no reason he should feel uncomfortable around Mercedes. She was his friend. Or, she had used to be his friend. Maybe she could be again...

Mercedes sat in the armchair across from them, and leaned forward. "Guess who Puck saw making out in the locker room on Monday." She said, raising her eyebrows.

Kurt thought. "Mr. Schuester and Ms. Pillsbury-Howell?"

"Gross no!" Mercedes said. "Why would they been in the locker room?"

"I don't know!" Kurt said, laughing. "Just tell me, I'm never going to guess."

"Alright, if you're sure you can handle it." Mercedes said, then paused dramatically. "Sam and Karofsky." She said finally.

Kurt's jaw dropped. "Get the fuck outta town." He said. Mercedes raised her eyebrows, not used to hearing Kurt swear so casually.

"Huh, that's who Karofsky's boyfriend is?" Blaine said thoughtfully. "I never would have imagined that."

"Woah, you knew?" Mercedes and Kurt said at the same time.

Blaine cringed apologetically again. "When I went to meet with Mercedes, I ran into Karofsky. He told me to apologize to you, and mentioned he had changed a lot since you left, and was actually admitting to being gay. I was going to tell you, but I thought I should take things one at a time."

"Admitting to being gay? You mean he was gay before?" Mercedes asked.

Kurt shrugged. "He kissed me once, before I left." He said simply, and Mercedes gawked at him. "What, it was just a kiss."

"What do you mean, 'just a kiss'?" Mercedes said loudly. "Wasn't that your _first_ boy-kiss? How can you not care!"

"I did at the time." Kurt said quietly. He remembered how it had indeed seemed like such a big deal when it happened. It had felt like Karofsky had taken something important from him. He almost smiled, thinking about how stupid he'd been. What Karofsky had done hardly seemed like anything now, now that he'd had so much more taken from him. It barely even registered any more.

He looked down, and Blaine took the opportunity to shake his head at Mercedes and mouth "Let it go."

Mercedes made a squeaking, frustrated sounding noise. "Ok, I'm dropping it." She said, and Kurt snapped his head back up. Mercedes never dropped anything until she'd squeezed every last bit of information out of you. He couldn't believe she was just letting this go. He felt his eyes fill up with tears of gratitude for his friend.

"Thank you." He said quietly, bitting his lip again.

She smiled (grudgingly so, but still). "That's not all. Guess who the hottest new couple of the school is?"

"It's not Dam?" Blaine joked. "That's Dave and Sam…" He clarified. "You guys do that, right?"

Mercedes nodded. "No, Dam is still in the locker room closest, and they threatened to kill Puck if he told anyone. And then Puck threatened to kill me if I told anyone. And I'll kill you if you tell anyone." Mercedes said threateningly.

"And I wondered why the rumor mill at Mckinley was so active..." Kurt mused.

"I am offended by that!" Mercedes said, clutching her heart dramatically. "I'll have you know I am an excellent secret keeper...just not when it comes to other people's secrets." She said, scratching her head. "Anyways, back to my gossip. One word for you; Brittana."

"No!" Kurt gasped.

"Oh yeah." Mercedes said.

"What? Whose Brittanna?" Blaine asked.

"When did that happen?" Kurt asked, ignoring Blaine.

"Well they've been fooling around for years probably, but it became official about a month ago. Holly Holiday came back and told everyone cucumbers gave you aids, which was not cool by the way, and then BOOM, Brittanna." Mercedes said.

"Wow, I've missed so much..." Kurt said, shaking his head.

"Whose Brittanna?" Blaine asked again, waving his hand in front of Kurt's face.

"Brittany and Santana." Kurt said.

"No!" Blaine gasped.

"Oh yeah." Kurt said.

* * *

"I can't believe you're leaving..." Finn said, leaning against the wall. "It's not going to be the same without you."

"Really?" George asked, raising his eyebrows. "I didn't think you liked me very much."

"Of course I like you George!" Finn said. "You're the only guy friend I have in here...no offense Michael."

Michael shrugged. "None taken, I'm not a friendly person."

"Well...I guess that means a lot to me then." George said. "I've never actually had a guy friend before. Or a friend at all, really."

Finn smiled. "That is surprising." He said sarcastically.

"Yes, not all of us have your natural charm and charisma." George replied.

"Finn has charisma?" Paige said, slowly walking up to where they stood by the entrance.

"I was being sarcastic." George said, flushing. He smiled at her, and looked down at his feet. "I'm aware that I need to work on my infliction."

"I like your sarcasm. It's subtle." She said, smiling. Michael rolled his eyes.

"Um, I'm going to go watch TV again, if that's alright." He said numbly. Then he grabbed George into an awkward hug. "I'm gonna miss you dude." He said, then went back over to the couch. Before George could process what had happened, Casey came to them and let them know that George's parents where waiting outside for him.

"I'm going to go with Michael..." Finn said, shooting a look at Casey. She got the hint, and let Paige and George have some privacy. Finn began walking across the room, but kept an eye on them.

He watched George look nervously as his feet again, shuffling around. Without warning, he leaned forward and kissed Paige softly on the mouth, brushing a bit of her dark hair back behind her ear as he did. He pulled back from her for a moment, and Finn saw him slip something into her pocket. Then he turned around and was gone.


	19. Chapter 17

**A/N: For the record, I am really really sorry about the slow updates lately. I'm in university and it's "crunch" time. I'm sure anyone else in university/college right now can understand that that means I basically have no time for anything except school work and panic.**

**But I'm still sorry. Schools over in a few more weeks, and you can expect faster updates the moment it is. And I have a few story ideas I'm working on, and I'm excited to finally have the time to type them up! Don't worry, so far none of them involve rape and terribleness…**

**Well ok, one maybe...but that one's just sort of half formed. And maybe one other one..**

Chapter 17:

Finn sat down on the floor and leaned back against the wall. It was Friday, exactly one week since George had left. Finn had spent every second of it trying to keep Paige occupied so she didn't have time to think about George, and drop off and down.

They'd played every board game that wasn't missing too much of the pieces to be played, and put together half the puzzles. Unfortunately they realized pretty quickly that neither of them really cared much for puzzles or board games. On Wednesday they discovered that the lock on the room used for group therapy was really easy to pick, and they'd snuck in there with Tiffany and Michael and one of the erotica books from the girls dorm.

After trying to convince Michael that it was considerably funnier if he and Finn played the girls, and Tiffany and Paige were the men (and then after Paige tried to beat Michael up for calling Finn a faggot in response), it was actually an enjoyable afternoon.

They book they'd chosen was called "Veil over Wynter" and was about a young woman named Wynter Skye who was deeply and madly in love with a man named Eli Summers, with whom she has very good sex. However, Wynters best friend, Bello Zero, suspects that Eli may be using dark magiks to make Wynter obsessed with him (she is also in love with Wynter, and the two also have very good sex). Wynter refuses to believe her friend, despite all the good sex they have together...but when a dark stranger, Adrianne Frost, comes to town, Wynter is forced to question everything she ever thought she knew about love and really good sex.

While they'd had fun reading out the ridiculous and implausible scenarios and dialogue (at one point, Wynter accidentally falls into a bathtub with Bello, resulting in them having very good bath tub sex) they were unfortunately interrupted by Gorey before they could finish the story. After screaming that they were not supposed to be in there and calling Finn a fag a few times, he kicked them out of the room ("But we'll never know who she chooses!" Paige had cried).

Finn was in the group therapy room again now, sitting on the floor of the empty room. He was exhausted, and needed to be alone for a little, and preferably for a solid 20 minute chunk of time. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

* * *

Mercedes wasn't lying when she said she had loads of gossip. They spent an hour discussing everyone at McKinley, laughing about how Sue's latest attempt at destroying the Glee Club had somehow resulted in 3 of her Cheerio's winding up in the hospital with temporary memory loss, and trying to decide who was on top with Sam and Karofsky.

Kurt smiled but clutched Blaine's hand the entire time they were talking, and Blaine could tell he was worried that at any moment she was going to start asking about him. He squeezed his hand reassuringly and smiled at him.

Kurt never let go of his hand, but he did seem to be enjoying talking to Mercedes, and catching up on everything in her life. He felt himself smile wider as Kurt made a few sassy comments about his former school mates that were reminiscent of his old snappy demeanor. Blaine hadn't heard that bite in voice for months, and he could only assume it was Mercedes that had brought it back out of him.

Watching them together, he felt thrilled and relieved. Thrilled to hear Kurt gossiping and laughing, and relieved that Kurt had understood his intentions and had given Mercedes a chance.

He was sure he was smiling like an idiot the entire time, but he didn't care and continued to smile goofily at Kurt after Mercedes left. Kurt shook his head and went up to his room, lying down on the bed and Blaine followed.

"You look so goofy when you smile like that, you know that right?" Kurt murmured, feeling Blaine lie down next to him.

"Sorry," Blaine said, resting his head on Kurt's shoulder. "It was just nice seeing you with Mercedes again. You guys are adorable together, you know."

"Oh, are we?" Kurt asked, closing his eyes.

"Mmhmm." Blaine murmured, kissing Kurt softly. Kurt looked like he was about to fall asleep, and Blaine silently congratulated himself for telling Mercedes to keep her visit short. He hadn't wanted Kurt to feel overwhelmed, and it seemed like he'd made the right call. "You tired now?" He asked, running his hand softly down Kurt's cheek.

Kurt nodded a little. "Yeah...but it was still nice to see her again..." He said quietly.

"I'm glad." Blaine said.

Kurt smiled a little. "I was so worried that she was about to start asking me what I've been up to, and why I haven't called her and everything."

Blaine bit his lip. A small, selfish part of him wanted to tell Kurt that _he'd_ told her not to ask those questions. _He'd _made sure that this visit went as smooth as possible, and he'd done it all for Kurt. But right now, he needed Kurt to strengthen his friendship with Mercedes, so he kept silent. "You need to give people more credit than that, Kurtie." He said, kissing him on the cheek. "I guess she figures that why you drifted apart isn't what's important. What's important is that you're getting back together now."

Kurt smiled wider, his eyes still closed. "I love her..." He said fondly. Blaine was about to respond, when he felt Kurt move his hands between his legs. He almost laughed. Even in his half passed out state, Kurt was still trying to get into his pants.

"I thought you were too tired." Blaine reminded him, pressing his lips against him.

Kurt grinned, and opened his eyes. "I said I was tired, not _too_ tired. There's a substantial difference." He said, winding his other hand in Blaine's tie to pull him closer as they kissed.

"Oh, is there?" Blaine asked, his words muffled by Kurt's lips. He didn't bother moving Kurt's hand away from between his legs. They'd already crossed that barrier in their relationship, and it wasn't something Blaine minded to cross again.

He felt Kurt undo the button and zipper on his pants and begin to edge his way inside. One day he was going to need to ask Kurt how he did that with one hand.

"Besides," Kurt said, moving his head to the side to kiss along Blaine's neck. "I'm pretty sure my body has conditioned itself to never be too tired for this...sort of a defense mechanism."

Blaine gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, but Kurt didn't seem to notice the effect his words had on him. He hated it when Kurt said things like that, hated it. And he'd been saying more and more things like that lately. He wanted to say something...to tell Kurt to stop, but he didn't think he could. Sure, it hurt him to hear it, but it had hurt Kurt more to experience it...he didn't think he had a right to say anything. So he shut his eyes tightly and tried to let the feeling of Kurt's lips against his chest as he unbuttoned his shirt wash over him and make him feel ok again. He pulled Kurt's head back and kissed his lips again, and Kurt smiled and ran his fingers through he hair, tousling it.

Kurt had taken his shirt and tie off now, and he broke their kiss apart for a moment to pull his own shirt over his head and toss it on the floor. Blaine ran his hands along Kurt's body and pulled him back down, tangling his own fingers in Kurt's hair as he kissed him deeply.

As Kurt moved Blaine's pants down past his hips and off his body, he began to move his head down Blaine's body as well, but Blaine stopped him. That wasn't what he wanted right now. "Keep kissing me," He whispered, gasping slightly as Kurt's hand found it's way around him. "I need you to keep kissing me..."

* * *

Finn had purposefully not asked Paige how she felt about George leaving, knowing that when she was ready to talk about it she would bring it up herself. He'd done his best to keep her occupied until that happened, and so they hadn't spoken about George until the end of the week.

Paige had recently started eating breakfast in the morning along with the other patients, claiming that she no longer felt nauseous. Finn was glad to have the company while he ate, since George had never been a great conversationalist, and Tiffany spent far too much time talking about animals.

They'd been eating breakfast together on Friday morning when she'd decided to talk about him. She had her elbow on the table, and was propping her chin up on her head. "You were right." She said quietly.

"Course I was." Finn said, not looking up from his froot loops.

"Please," Paige said, rolling her eyes. "Don't try and pretend like it's not the first time in the history of everything that that has happened."

Finn tilted his head a little. "That is true. Now what was I right about?"

Paige smiled coyly, and small bit of red showed under her pale cheeks. Finn realized instantly that they were having a conversation about George, and began paying more rapt attention. "You were right about how when someone special kisses you, you can see what all the fuss is about." She said, fiddling with her plastic spoon and biting her lip.

Finn smiled widely. "Did you see fireworks?" He asked.

"No fireworks," She said, shaking her head. "But I got a weird tingly feeling everywhere like someone blew off a bomb in my brain and it made all the molecules in my skin go BRR!" She said, shaking her body up and down to demonstrate the "BRR!" effect.

Finn looked at his friend calmly. "Paige, I need you to forgive me for what I'm about to do." He said seriously.

"Ok..." Paige said slowly, one eyebrow raised high on her forehead.

Finn smiled and stood up quickly, pulling Paige up by her shoulders with him. Then he hugged her tightly, lifting her feet up off the ground. "_I'm so fucking happy for you!_" He shouted swinging her back and forth in his arms.

"Finn...death choke...lemme go...kick your ass." Paige choked out, and Finn put her back in her chair. She smoothed her skirt down and eyed him.

"I forgive you." She informed him, and he beamed. "Don't ever do that again."

"Scott's honor." Finn said, saluting.

"It's Scout's honor, poo brain." Paige said, shaking her head.

"Really?" Finn asked, incredulous. "Huh."

Paige laughed. "Who the hell is Scott?"

Finn shrugged. "Who the hell is Scout?"

"He was a General in the second world war, who went off on a suicide mission, promising to come back. Even though all the odds are in favor of him dying horribly, he kept his promise to return. When he did he was awarded the medal of honor, and now today when you make a sincere promise, it's called a Scout's honor." She said simply.

"Really?"

"No." She said, rolling her eyes. "It's from like the Boy Scouts or something."

"Oh." Finn said quietly. "What did George slip into your pocket before he left?"

Paige smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear, not bothering to question his segue."His phone number and address. And he wrote 'when you get out, come find me.'" She said quietly.

"Wow." Finn said, impressed that George had made a move. A real move, not just a "Well you'll never see me again, so I've got nothing to lose" move. He looked at Paige, and resisted picking her up again. "This is good, Paige. This is really good." He said.

"I know." She said, blushing again. "I feel like an actual girl."

Finn tilted his head to the side again, examining her. She had her dark hair tucked back behind one ear, and was for once letting her whole face show. Her face itself was fuller than it had been a few months ago, and it did a lot for her appearance. She no longer had hollow cheeks or dark circles under her eyes, and the blush even added a little colour to her pale complexion. When she smiled, her eyes lit up from black to a warm brown colour. "You are an actual girl, Paige." Finn said sincerely. "And a Beautiful one too."

And she was.

* * *

They sleeping in each other's arms, and although the were under the blankets and covered up to their waists, it sure as hell_ looked _as though they were naked.

Burt stood in the doorway, watching them sleep, and found himself doing a very familiar dance. It was a dance he did often, even if he didn't consciously realize he was doing it. If he had, he probably would have called it his "When the fuck did life become so goddamned complicated" dance.

A long time ago, finding a potentially naked boy in bed with their arms around his potentially naked son would have only had one appropriate reaction; anger. It would have been perfectly acceptable, and even expected, for Burt to freak out, kick the kid out of bed and ground Kurt for the rest of ever.

But he couldn't do that now. Everything was different now. The opportunity to angrily try and protect his son's virtue had been taken from him, just like the opportunity to have a normal first sexual experience had been taken from Kurt.

Kurt would never laugh his way through that awkward first time where neither of them knew what they were doing, so everything was uncomfortable and strange, but great anyways. Kurt would never never wake up with a headache one morning and find that he wasn't in his bed. He would never feel his heart beat as he saw the almost stranger next to him, their underwear on the ground, and realize he wasn't a virgin anymore.

Those had never been experiences Burt had wanted his son to have before, but now that he knew he would never have them he felt like Kurt had been cheated out of something, of some typical experience every teenager has. Everyone but Kurt.

They would never have that awkward "talk" like everyone else would, where Burt would try and explain to Kurt what sex was and what it meant. He'd been dreading that talk since Kurt had come out him, but now that he knew they would never have it, he was surprised by how upset he was. It had been sure to be uncomfortable and unpleasant as hell, but it had been a goddamned right of passage that they were supposed to go through together...and now they couldn't.

No, everything was different now.

This dance he did, while mostly a mental one, had it's physical steps too. It mostly involved Burt clenching and unclenching his fists angrily and raising his arms up in down out of frustration. Every now and then he would either stop the clenching to grab his baseball cap off his head, crushing it angrily underneath his hand and then jamming it back on his head, or he would mime throttling, pretending the air between his hands was really Blaine's neck.

No, instead of stopping Kurt from having sex with his boyfriend, not only was he supposed to let it happen, he was supposed to encourage it. After Blaine had come to talk to him, Burt had spent a long time on the phone with Kurt's therapist, Claudia. Although she'd said right away that Blaine wanting to do something romantic and potentially sex-related with Kurt was a great thing, Burt had needed a little bit more convincing than that.

Then she'd told him very frankly that because of Kurt's increased libido, if he couldn't get what he was looking for from someone who was special and loving, he would look for it someplace else. And he would find it someplace else. And all his notions of sex being painful and awful for him, all he thought about how he should be treated like dirt during sex, every wrong thing he thought he knew, it would only be reinforced.

Learning to form a loving, healthy sexual relationship with Blaine would help restructure his ideas of sex and it's relation to pain, and regulate his urges. He told himself all of that, and he even believed it, but it still didn't make him feel any better.

So this was the dance Burt did, fighting his natural instincts as father and trying to remind himself that this was good. This was what he wanted. He told himself that, but he couldn't make himself believe it. At least...not until he saw the peaceful, happy look on his sleeping son's face.

It was easier to believe then.

Too many times he'd gone into Kurt's room at night after hearing him crying in his sleep, and found him thrashing around in his covers, screaming and moaning. Too many times he'd woken Kurt up from his nightmares and held him, telling him it was all just a dream and knowing it wasn't. Kurt never remembered the next morning.

Burt looked at the other sleeping boy lying with his son, his arms wrapped protectively around him. What he thought of Blaine was something he danced around with a lot. His instincts told him to grab the fucker by his neck and toss him out of the house for putting his paws on his baby boy.

But the rational part of him knew he wasn't going to do it, because as much as he resented the kid, he was also thankful for him.

So often he'd wondered why Blaine did it, why he stayed with Kurt. What was keeping this kid with his son, when for a long time it had seemed as though their relationship consisted of nothing more than Blaine holding Kurt while he cried, and reassuring him of his love, and Kurt's beauty and everything else he was insecure about. Blaine couldn't have been getting much out of that...he knew how hard it was, knew how difficult Kurt could be.

At the beginning, there were a few times where Kurt had come to him, crying because he'd called Blaine and Blaine hadn't answered, or he'd been busy. The first few times that had happened, Burt had been sure the kid was getting ready to leave him. And he hadn't been able to blame him. But then Blaine would call him back or see him the next day, and it was all fine. And every time Kurt called and Blaine wasn't there, it was less and less of a big deal. Sometimes Burt wondered if Blaine had planned it like that.

He never left him, no matter how hard things were.

For example, lately Kurt had begun...saying things. Things that Burt didn't want to hear. Couldn't hear. And Burt couldn't say anything because Kurt didn't even seem to realize he was saying it, or that there was anything wrong with it.

_Last week at Costco, they'd stopped by one of the tables giving out free food samples. Yogurt. Kurt had tried some and immediately spit it out in disgust, right in front of the lady handing them out. When she'd glared at him angrily, Kurt had simply shrugged. "What?" He'd asked, tossing the rest of it in the garbage. "That shit tastes like cum, and I won't swallow it." And he'd walked away._

But still Blaine stayed.

In his head, Burt had thanked Blaine already, many times. Thanked him for never giving up on Kurt, thanked him for pulling him back into the world and the way normal things worked. He'd thanked him for making Kurt sing again, and bringing the smile back to his face and the light back to his eyes. He'd even thanked him for coming to talk to him about spending the weekend with Kurt, because he'd come back to different...so happy. So much like his old self.

But he knew he could never do that, never say that. Not out loud. So instead of thanking him, Burt slowly edged his way out of the room. It wasn't a grand gesture, but it was the best way he knew how to say thank you.

* * *

He was half asleep when he heard the door to the group room creek open. He was slumped over against the wall now, and he slowly stood up as someone entered the room.

"The fuck you doing in here, cock-sucker?" Gorey snapped, closing the door behind him. He sounded angry, but he didn't look angry. In fact, he looked happy. Very happy.

Finn shrugged. "Needed to be alone." Gorey smiled at him, and Finn suddenly felt his heart beat fast. He had closed the door behind him. Closed it and locked it.

Finn stood frozen against the wall and Gorey walked slowly across the room towards him.

His face was reminiscent of every dark, chilling look he'd ever given him, and now Finn could see the truth in that look. It was more than interested, and more than dark.

It was wanting.

* * *

**A/N: OK, I know you all hate me right now, so I will try and update as fast as possible, even if that means not sleeping.**

**ALSO I have done a little research and HA there are 4 other Sam/Dave stories. Oh, and apparently the ship is called "Save" which I like a lot better than "Dam". For the record, I just threw them together as sort of a joke. Cause of all the Kurtosfsky and Skurt stories out there, I though well with Kurt not there, who do Karofsky and Sam have to be gay with? The answer; each other. It's not a serious ship for me...I'm forever shipping Skurt. Except in this story.**


	20. Chapter 18

**A/N: This authors note is nothing but an angry and mostly irrelevant rant, so I give you my full permission to just skip ahead to the story. **

**OMG I had this chapter ready yesterday MORNING**__**and the website **_**wouldn't let me log in! **_**I was so sad, because I felt like a big pile of suck and I really wanted to get some reviews to cheer me up! **

**And then I checked back last night...STILL WOULDN'T LET ME LOG IN! I made very angry faces at the screen and eveything...it got me nowhere (well, it got me some really weird looks from my dad, but whatever...)**

**Anyways, here's the chapter and uh, please don't hate me. **

Chapter 18:

"You know kid, you've really thrown me for a loop." Gorey said, sauntering towards him. "I mean, first I hear about you raping your brother and I think, 'kids gotta be a fag'. But then you go and stick it in _Lina_ of all people..." He gave him a disappointed look here. "That hurt me."

"G-good." Finn said, because he didn't know how else to respond. Gorey was right in front of him now, and he lifted his hand up and placed it on Finn's chest. Finn shivered under his touch and darted his eyes to the door. He was pretty sure he could take Gorey, he was bigger than him...but for some reason, he was having trouble functioning. Gorey leaned forward and tried to kiss him, and that seemed to snap him out of his daze. He shoved his hands against Gorey's chest, pushing him away.

"Get the fuck away from me." He snapped. Gorey smiled and reached for something clipped onto his belt. At the same time, he slammed his forearm against Finn's chest, pining him up to the wall. He was stronger then he looked. He held the thing he'd unclipped from his close to Finn's face, where it crackled with electricity. Finn's eyes widened, and so did Gorey's smile.

"That's right, cock-sucker, they gave me a taser." He said gleefully. He made the taser crackle a few more times, before lowering it to hip level. "So I wouldn't move if I were you." He said, leaning in to kiss him again. Finn couldn't stop him this time, and he grimaced as Gorey's tongue found it's way into his mouth. His mouth tasted like nicotine and ash, and Finn felt nauseous. His eyes darted towards the door again, and he tried to think of how he was going to get out of this.

Gorey pulled away slowly, lingering his mouth over Finn's. "Damn..." He whispered, moving his mouth over to Finn's ear. "You have no idea how _long_ I've been waiting to do that." He moved his forearm off Finn's chest, and trailed his hand down his body. "You know, you have this look in your eye right now...like you think you can still get out of this." He said, leaning away a bit. Finn stared at him, unable to speak. "You can't, you know. This _is_ happening." Gorey said, moving his hand down between his legs.

Finn groaned, and tilted his head back against the wall he was pressed against. He hated himself for getting hard.

"Wanna know how I know this is going to happen?" Gorey asked, stroking him lightly. "Because I've done it before. Only twice here...and not for a long time." Gorey pressed harder, and gritted his teeth together. "A real fucking long time." He growled. "But in other places I've worked...places that didn't have people like that fucking cunt Sheila sticking their noses in other peoples business...god, so much." He whispered, running tongue quickly over Finn's neck, still stroking.

"Usually," Gorey continued, pressing his mouth against Finn's ear again, "the thing to do is go for the rape victims. See, their rapists already did all the work there for you. Broke them in all the right ways, trained 'em to take_ everything_ you give." He chuckled here, pausing to suck on Finn's lobe. He felt his heart beat quickly and the nausea rise higher up in his chest. He couldn't stand the feeling of Gorey touching him...licking him. It was awful.

"And they never tell anyone either." Gorey murmured, squeezing him painfully. "They already know that they deserve what they're getting, too...and they want it." He tilted his head back and looked into his eyes. "I'm wondering...what's it like, to make someone like that? Break them down until their nothing but a walking, breathing human s_ex doll_...a fucking cum dumpster? You know that's what you turned your precious Kurt into, right? He's probably on his knees right now, sucking off some stranger because he knows that's all he's good for."

Finn squirmed against him. "Don't you fucking talk about him." He seethed, straining against his body. Gorey pressed down on the taser and it cackled menacingly. Finn stopped squirming again.

"I'll talk about him if fucking want to. You're not in charge here, faggot." He hissed. He took his hand away from between Finn's legs and trailed a finger over his cheek. "But I guess you're right, now isn't really the time for talking." His eyes shone, and he licked his lips, glancing down for a moment. "On your knees- now."

Feeling a pit grow in his stomach, Finn glanced desperately towards the door. There was a window on it, and anyone who came past and looked in would see what was happening. But no one walked past. Gorey laughed. "Still think you're gonna get out of this? That's cute." He jammed the taser into Finn's gut, making him double over. "I press the trigger, and send a thousand volts of electricity through your body. Not only is that going to hurt like a motherfucker, you'll also pass right the fuck out. And I'm much less inclined to take it easy on an unconscious body." He sneered. "So I repeat; on your knees cock-sucker. Let's make that nickname literal, hmmm?"

* * *

It was lunch time on Monday, and Kurt sat at a table in the senior common room, cutting a banana into bite sized pieces. Blaine was sitting next to him, staring at a thesaurus with a pained expression on his face. He had a paper due in his english class soon, and Kurt knew he was having a hard time writing it, even if Blaine refused to talk about his own troubles.

School had been uneventful for a while. On Monday Kurt saw that there was a new kid in two of his classes, and although he hadn't spoken to him at all, he sure as hell looked a lot nicer than Jake and Kurt considered that a definite win. Other than that, nothing was new.

"Why are you cutting up your banana?" Nick asked, walking into the room with Jeff and over to where they were sitting. Jeff took out a water bottle and sat down.

"Blaine won't let me eat it the normal way." Kurt said, shrugging. He saw Jeff choke a little on his water. "Hey, talk to Blaine about it." Kurt said.

"Trust me." Blaine said, not taking his eyes off the thesaurus. "It's better this way."

Nick shrugged, sitting down next to Jeff. "Wanna hang out after school today? I got a new thing...for um..."

"Video games?" Jeff supplied.

"Yes!" Nick said, snapping triumphantly.

"Can't, I'm hanging out with Mercedes." Kurt said, popping a piece of the the banana in his mouth. He sighed and closed his eyes. "Mmm..._god_, that's good." He murmured, and opened his eyes to find Blaine, Nick and Jeff staring at him.

"See what I mean?" Blaine asked, putting the thesaurus down and shooting a knowing look at Nick.

Nick nodded.

"You people are sick..." Kurt mumbled, poking at the banana.

Blaine smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "And what are you and Mercedes doing?"

Kurt frowned and bit his lip. "We're going shopping."

"Yeah? That's great." Blaine said absently, beginning to thumb through the thesaurus again. "You love shopping." Kurt cast his eyes down and continued to chew his lip and slowly, Blaine looked back up. "...or you used to love shopping."

Out of the corner of his eye, Kurt saw Jeff shoot a look to Nick and gesture for him to get up. Slowly the two stood up, and went over to the other side of the room.

He had Blaine's full attention now, which was not what he wanted. In all the time they'd been together, Blaine had never noticed how his interest in fashion had dwindled, and Kurt had been hoping to keep it that way.

"You don't love shopping anymore?" Blaine asked, obviously upset.

Kurt shrugged. "It' just...I have enough clothes, you know?" Blaine's expression grew more pained, and Kurt realized that had_ not_ been the right thing to say. "I'm sorry Blaine, but please don't make this into a big thing. It's not like I don't have an interest in looking nice, and wearing nice clothes...it's just not this big obsession anymore."

Blaine nodded, and took his hands in his. "Alright, not making a big deal out of it." He said, wearing the smile Kurt had come to recognize as fake.

"Good." Kurt said, squeezing his hands. "Because it's not a big deal."

Blaine nodded, and his smile seemed to warm up a bit more. "You look nice in anything, anyways." He said, brushing a bit of hair back off his face. "Beautiful, and stunning, ravishing, divine, enchanting, magnificent, exquisite..."

Kurt smiled a little. "That would be a lot sweeter if I hadn't _just_ seen you with a thesaurus."

Blaine laughed, running his fingers along his cheek and giving him a quick kiss. "That does seem to take away the romanticism of it, huh?" Kurt nodded, still smiling. "Doesn't make it any less true though…" He added, still holding his face in his hands.

Kurt blushed a little and bit his lip. "What's with all the compliments, is there something you want from me?" He joked. Blaine's gaze flickered for a moment and Kurt widened his eyes. "You do! You're trying to butter me up!"

Blaine smiled guiltily. "Possibly...it's still all true, but I do have something I wanted to ask you."

"Yes, you use too much hair gel." Kurt said instantly.

Blaine tilted his head to the side. "Not what I was going to ask, but I'm glad you feel comfortable enough with me to be honest about that." He smiled. "No...I was wondering what you were doing on Friday night."

"Um, why?" Kurt asked nervously. He figured if Blaine needed such a big build up to his question, then it couldn't be anything good.

"Well...my parents are having sort of a dinner party thing." He said quietly, and Kurt felt his heart pound in his chest. "It would be a good opportunity for you to meet them, you know, officially...a long with a few of my other relatives..." He trailed off.

Kurt tried to stop himself from cringing, but he was pretty sure he failed. He was just getting used to spending time with people who weren't Blaine, and now he was supposed to spend an evening making small talk with Blaine's relatives? What if he said the wrong thing, which he was learning his tended to do a lot...or had a panic attack or…

"I...I can't, Blaine." He said quietly, not meeting Blaine's gaze.

"Why not?" Blaine asked, hurt.

"Because I just...I feel...I..." He stammered.

"Look, it's not until Friday, so why don't you just think about it for a little, then get back to me, ok?" Blaine said.

Kurt nodded, knowing that the more he thought about it, the less he was going to want to do it.

* * *

A feeling of hopelessness settled in his stomach now, and without further resistance, Finn sunk to his knees. "I suppose I don't need to tell you what's supposed to happen now, do I?" Gorey asked, smirking.

"Fuck you..." Finn grumbled. Gorey jutted his hips forward impatiently and Finn peeled down his pants. He wanted to close his eyes, to not be able to see what he about to do, but he couldn't do it.

"You're not going to tell anyone about this either." Gorey said, as Finn's mouth choked it's way around him. It wasn't a question, and it wasn't an instruction...just a statement of fact. "Because you you know you deserve this too. Just like all those raped kids, you know you've got this coming." He chuckled a bit, and it turned into a groan. "Pun not intended."

He gripped Finn's hair tightly, forcing him father downward and Finn gagged. He fought back the urge to clamp his mouth down hard, and bit Gorey in half...if for no other reason, the metallic taste of his blood would be a welcome change to one currently wriggling on his tongue.

Besides, Paige had shown him a few movies where that happened, and it seemed like it would be extremely satisfying right now.

Finn felt tears form in his eyes as Gorey jerked himself forward again, striking the back of his throat. He blinked backed the tears, keeping his eyes focused on the window on the door. If someone would just come by…

Every time Gorey pushed his hips forward, Finn gagged and choked against him...and it just make Gorey moan harder, and push his hips forward again.

No one came.

Finn kept trying to go somewhere else mentally, somewhere where this didn't seem so bad...but he couldn't do it. His mind stayed right there, focusing on everything that was happening. He couldn't control it.

He could, however, control where his eyes were. At least he didn't have to see what was happening, not fully...although the sight of the empty window was becoming too much to bear as well.

But then it wasn't empty.

Someone was there.

_Lina._

Finn widened his eyes, making direct contact with hers. His eyes begged her, begged her to get someone. Sheila. Casey. Anyone.

Finn looked into Lina's brown eyes and saw them laugh back at him. Her eyes laughed and her lips smiled and she gave him the middle finger…

And the window was empty again.

That was when Finn really gave up. He didn't know why he'd even been hopeful in the first place...Gorey was right, he deserved this. After all, he'd forced this exact thing and worse on Kurt, several times over. It was only fair he should know what it felt like, too. He should know what he'd done, really know in the most tangible way possible.

Don't give it out if you can't take it back.

Besides, it was too late anyways, Gorey was finishing...he could tell because he wasn't moving as much, just shaking and stammering around and then-

God, it was awful. Something he'd tasted before sure...but somehow, it tasted worse now. Every part of him was saying to spit it the fuck up. Get it out of your mouth and get it out _now_.

But Gorey wouldn't let him. He kept himself firmly lodged in Finn's throat, stroking his hair.

"Swallow, Finn." Gorey said, his voice shaky and laughing.

It was a good thing he'd already given up, or he probably wouldn't have been able to do it.

He swallowed.

"Atta boy..." Gorey chuckled.

"Fuck you." Finn said, wiping his mouth on his hand. He yanked Gorey's pants up in front of him, and pushed his hips away a little.

"Oh, you're a feisty one." Gorey said, grabbing the front of Finn's shirt and pulling him up. He shoved him back against the wall, ramming his tongue back into his throat._ Good,_ Finn thought. _Let's see how much he likes his own taste._

Gorey was trailing his fingers back between his legs now, and Finn felt his heart sink again. It was just occurring to him that maybe Gorey wasn't finished with him yet.

_Oh god._

"Listen, can you just...can I just go now?" Finn asked, trying to keep away the pleading tone that was threatening to edge into his voice. He didn't want to give Gorey the satisfaction of hearing him plead.

Gorey chuckled darkly. "Maybe if I thought I could get another chance like this again, I'd let you go...god knows I don't want to rush this..." He raked his eyes over Finn and licked his lips again. "But it was pure chance that we got this time together at all...so, sorry. We ain't done yet." He said, pressing his lips against's Finn's neck. He sucked lightly for a moment and then found a new spot. Finn guessed he didn't want to leave marks.

Finn rolled his eyes back and looked at the door again.

Something flashed past it.

It was something dark...he'd just missed catching what it was. His heart beat quickly and he told himself it was nothing. No one was there.

Gorey moved his hand down inside his pants, playing with the elastic band of his underwear and Finn felt his chest cave in. "God I can't wait to feel how fucking tight you are..." Gorey whispered, and darted his tongue around Finn's ear.

He moved his hand behind his underwear now, and Finn couldn't even protest. He didn't trust himself to say anything that wouldn't begging and pleading. He wanted to bang his back against the wall behind him and moan and cry. But he refused, and his chest shook silently.

He kept his eyes on the door, even though he told himself he hadn't seen anything, he kept his eyes on the door.

He blinked and his heart raced.

Paige.

Oh thank fuck.

_Paige._

She had her sketch pad with her and was pressing it up to the window. In charcoal she'd written "Picking the lock, distract him!"

Then she ducked down and Finn heard a small scariping sound. Before Gorey could hear it too, Finn pressed his mouth against his tightly, moaning loudly. He kissed him hard, even as Gorey trailed his fingers over his backside and all he wanted to do was scream...but he didn't scream. He moaned and egged Gorey on as Paige slowly opened the door, and tip toed towards them.

Finn almost laughed. She had a chair with her. One of those white plastic chairs from the TV area, and she held it above her head for a moment before bringing it crashing down around Gorey's middle.

It all happened fast. In a second. Gorey gave a strangled cry as the chair connected and broke around him, and Finn scrambled away from him. The taser fell from his hand, and as he fell to the ground, he grabbed Paige by her dark hair and threw her against the wall.

It happened fast, but Paige fell slow.

Gorey was heaving on his knees and Finn smashed his fist down on his head. He fell against the floor and Finn kicked him aside and grabbed Paige up from where she lay an inch away.

"Paige, are you ok?" He choked. His throat was scratched and raw, but he didn't care. He held Paige in his arms, and touched the spot under her dark bangs where she'd hit the wall. When he took his hand away, there was blood on it. He wiped it off on his shirt and shook her a little. "Paige, please, are you ok?" He asked, his voice breaking now.

Her eyes were unfocused and rolling, but she managed to lock them on him for a second. She squinted at him and he thought he saw a smiled twitch at her lips. "Your shirt..." she mumbled, then went limp in his arms.

"What the fuck was that sound?" Sheila yelled, charging into the room. She froze when she saw Finn clutching Paige on the floor, and Gorey's passed out body a foot away from them. Her eyes went wide. "What the fuck happened?"

"Gorey- Corey, he fucking…" Finn stammered, not knowing what to call it. Not rape, not exactly...but Finn didn't know what else to say and thinking was too difficult. "I don't know what, but you can pump my stomach if you want proof, cause it's full of his fucking cum." Finn cried. "Paige saved me but he fucking slammed her in to the wall..." He said, tears streaming down his face.

Sheila rushed over and pressed her fingers against Paige's throat, and held her ear over her mouth. She looked relieved. "Ok, she's alive and breathing." She looked at Finn. "You know where how to get to the ER from here?" She asked, her voice softer than he'd ever heard. Finn nodded. "Take her there, I'll call down and tell them to admit her." She looked over at Gorey. "I'll get security for him." She sneered, helping Finn up with Paige.

He got to his feet, and swallowed painfully. Part of him couldn't believe Sheila had just taken his word for what had happened, but he didn't have time to thank her. He cradled his friend in his arms, hating how light she was. It was almost like he was holding nothing, and he couldn't think about that. He told himself he wasn't holding nothing, he was holding his friend, and she was going to be fine.

She had to be.

**A/N: I'm not going to bother having you fret until I update again, so just know that no OF COURSE Paige IS NOT GOING TO DIE. I couldn't do that. I wouldn't want to do that, I love Paige.**

**Her words to Finn before she passes out (Your shirt...) are a reference to Tara on from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. **

**AND just know that the Finn blow job could have been so much worse than it was. I spared you all. My mind is a dark place, that I have decided to not unleash upon you. Anyone interested in the original scene can send me a PM. But I do not recommend it. When I wrote it, I shut my eyes as I typed. Weird?**

**Also I apologize for how little Kurt was in this chapter, but right now Finn really needed more focus. It will be a lot more even next chapter.**


	21. Chapter 19

**A/N: This one of the parts of the story I've had in my head since my beginning. Well, the whole Gorey/Finn thing was, including the aftermath. It's nice to be able to finally write it down (or type it up...?)**

Chapter 19:

Carole answered the phone this time.

"...He was _what?_" She screamed into the phone, barely able to process what the scared sounding voice on the other end had just told her.

"Um...well...it would seem that one of the orderlies, who has since be detained and let go, he um..._molested _him?" The voice said meekly, becoming even quieter as the sentence drew to a close. "Um, the hospital would like to know if you want us to press charges on your behalf..."

Carole sank down into a chair. "How did this happen?" She asked, feeling her voice break. "How could you have let this happen?"

There was silence on the other end. "Hello?" Carole repeated, wishing she'd been able to maintain the flash of anger she'd felt a moment ago. It was gone now and in it's place was a crushing helplessness.

"Finn wants to speak with you." The voice squeaked, and then there was a shuffling sound. A moment later, her son was on the line.

"Mom?" He said, and Carole felt a wave of tears hit her. His voice was raw and scratched sounding, as though he had a bad cold.

"Finn, sweetie, are you ok?" She asked, trying to keep the tears out of her voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine Mom." He said. "But can you tell them you're not going to sue the hospital?"

"What?" She asked, confused. He did indeed sound fine, besides the painful timbre in his voice.

"The hospital, they don't want to be sued. They say they can press charges against Gorey, and you don't have to do anything, but they don't want you to sue them, so you gotta promise not to, okay?" He explained, speaking calmly and slowly.

Carole rubbed her forehead trying to figure out what was going on. Finn had been molested...but he was fine. The hospital was going to press charges, but didn't want to be sued…something was gory….

"Why can't I sue the hospital?" She asked, finding it impossible to think over the dull pounding in her head.

"Because they said that if I could get you to promise not to sue, I could go see Paige."

"Paige?" _When did Paige come into this? Oh god, was she molested too? This hospital definitely sounds like it deserves to be sued..._

"She like rescued me and stuff, but Gorey fu-, Gorey slammed her into the wall, and you know how small Paige is…" Finn said, his voice finally taking on the broken quality she would have expected. "The doctors think she's gonna be fine but she's still unconscious and technically I'm not allowed to leave the ward to go see her, but they said they'll let me anyways if I can get you not to sue. So _please _mom, please promise not to." He begged.

"Whats gory?" She asked, tiredly, her mind processing Finn's words at half speed.

"Oh, that's who...that's, um, he's the one who..." Finn trailed off, choking on his words. Carole understood what he was saying anyhow, and felt a fresh wave of tears swell up. "Please, Mom?"

"I...Finn..." She began. "Ok, I won't sue the hospital." She said tiredly.

"Oh great!" Finn said. "Here, tell Casey, I'm gonna go see Paige." He said, and then the shuffling noise was back.

"Hello?" Casey said, sounding just as meek as before, although slightly more hopeful.

"I promise not to sue the hospital." She said flatly, wondering how binding that promise was. Probably not very...but she didn't think she had the time or money to sue anyways.

"Oh thank god!" Casey said, and then coughed loudly. "I mean. Good. Um...do you want us to press charges though? You won't have to be involved, the hospital will handle it all."

"Yes, press charges." She said, standing up and wandering over to the liquor cabinet. She opened it up, and instead of the alcohol she knew used to be in there, there was a half eaten chocolate bar and a note saying "It's better this way." She wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh and hug Burt, or strangle him. Either way, she took the chocolate bar out and sat down on the couch with it.

"Ok, um...we will." Casey said quickly, obviously wanting to hang up now that she'd gotten everything she needed. "Um, well, goodbye."

Carole hung up the phone, not bothering to say goodbye back. She doubted Casey would mind. Her head still throbbed painfully, and after she'd finished the chocolate bar, she went over to the cupboard and took out a package of Rice Cakes. She then put the tasteless cakes into the liquor cabinet where the chocolate bar used to be, smiling to herself. Alcohol would have been better, but this would do.

* * *

Kurt tapped his pencil impatiently on his desk, wishing class would just be over already. He'd given up listening a little while ago, because even when he tried, he still wasn't hearing a word the teacher was saying. He'd felt distracted since his talk with Blaine on Monday, and he was pretty sure that his shopping trip with Mercedes had then used up any energy he'd had to pay attention in class.

The shopping trip itself had gone pretty well, he thought. They'd talked and gossiped, walking around the mall with their arms linked, and Kurt had enjoyed that very much. But when it came to the actual shopping...he'd really had to fake any sort of enthusiasm. He helped her pick out a few different outfits that she looked great in, and he'd bought a dress shirt for himself because he figured she'd expect him to get _something,_ but he hoped Mercedes hadn't noticed how bored he'd been the entire time.

He didn't think she had, and Mercedes was always one to say what was on her mind. Kurt glanced up, and his eyes met another pair of pale blue ones, staring at him from the front of the room. When the eyes saw Kurt looking, they turned around quickly.

It was the new kid. Kurt sighed. This was the fourth time today he'd caught him staring at him, and the millionth time this week. Honestly he didn't know what to make of it. He'd never had anyone stare at him like that before.

If there had been some sort of malicious glint in his eyes, something like the one Finn or Jake had when they stared at him, he would have known instantly _why_ he was staring at him; what he _wanted _from him. But there was nothing mean, or cruel in his eyes. In fact, there wasn't very much there at all. The looks he gave him were fairly blank, and if Kurt had to place emotions in them, he thought he could see curiosity, interest and possibly panic...but he didn't know what any of that meant.

He stifled a yawn and went back to tapping his pencil on his desk impatiently. If he hadn't been so tired all week, he would have just gone up to him and asked him about it, but as it were, interacting with people just seemed like far too much work right now.

* * *

Wednesday afternoon, all Blaine wanted to do was go home and crash on his bed. He was pretty sure he'd just handed in a B Level english essay, and for Blaine that might as well have been a fail. He hadn't been sleeping well lately either, and he knew that wasn't helping. It took him forever to fall asleep. He just lay in bed, staring at his ceiling thinking about everything in his life he would change if he could (but he couldn't). And then even when he did eventually drift off, it was fitful and unpleasant.

Unfortunately, he couldn't go home and crash, he had to go meet Mercedes.

On Monday after she'd gotten back from shopping with Kurt, she'd left a very long, angry message on his answering machine demanding to meet with him.

At least she was on time this time.

"Alright Short-stop, you _best_ tell me what happened, and you best tell me like, last week." Mercedes said, before she was even sitting down.

Blaine sighed and silently counted to 10. "I can't tell you that, Mercedes."

Blaine was pretty sure that if they were cartoons right now, Mercedes head out have just shot off her neck like a rocket, leaving a trail of steam behind and making a loud kettle sound.

"Why the hell can't you tell me?" She snarled. Actually snarled. Blaine had never seen anyone snarl before. It was frightening. "He was my best friend, I have a right to know-"

"Did something happen at the mall?" Blaine asked, cutting her off. He needed to know what he was dealing with before they could really have this discussion. "Because Kurt said you had a good time."

Mercedes ground her teeth for a moment, and seemed to be wrestling interally with something. Whatever it was, she sighed and Blaine could practically feel her emotions switch from protective anger to helpless confusion. "Nothing happened, not really...he's just..._differen_t. Something's _wrong._"

"How is he different?" Blaine asked, even though he could already formulate a large list of several small and large ways Kurt had permanently changed.

"You mean besides how obviously uninterested he was in shopping?" Mercedes asked, raising her eyebrows. "Let's see, where to start…" She said, pretending to be thinking hard. Blaine silently counted to 10 again. "Oh, how about how when I commented on a Calvin Klein ad featuring a particularly fine male model, Kurt agreed by saying he looked like 'he'd be up for a good- _f_uck'." She said, fumbling slightly over the swear word. Blaine cringed. "Or maybe how when this super creepy guy in the food court is staring at his ass, Kurt just rolls his eyes and looks bored, like creeper eye rape is no big deal, but when a sales lady puts her hand on his shoulder he just about jumps out of his well moisturized skin?"

She stared at Blaine, her eyes demanding an explanation. Blaine couldn't give her one, and just looked at her sadly. "I don't know what to tell you, Mercedes." He said truthfully.

"Well that's A. Freaking OK, Cause I DO know what you need to tell me. You need to tell me _exactly_ what happened to my baby boy to make him go from naive never been kissed virgin to Mr. Been-there done-_every_one." She said, her eyes flashing dangerously. Blaine had another image of a cartoon Mercedes shooting flames from her eyes and setting his blazer on fire, and he blinked and shook his head. He didn't operate well on too little sleep and too much stress.

"I know what you're thinking, but I can't give you any information." He said quietly. "Not without talking to Kurt first." He added, when Mercedes began to look even more like the cartoon firestarter in his head.

"Good." She said, half heartedly. Yelling at him had obviously not been as satisfying as she'd hoped it would be.

"But Mercedes, I should tell you that I really don't think Kurt is want you to know anything more than you already do." He continued.

"But I don't know anything."

"Exactly." Blaine said, taking a sip of his coffee. "That's what he wants."

"Look, short stop...I know I'm acting like a brat, and taking out my anger on you...but it's just cause I'm worried, you know?" She said in a soft voice Blaine wouldn't have thought possible for her. "I haven't seen Kurt for months and now that I have he's so...different...and I'm scared. I'm scared about what happened to make him like this. I want to be able to help...but I can't if I don't know what I'm trying to fix."

Blaine sighed, feeling himself soften a little towards her. "I know Mercedes, and I'll tell him that. But I have to know, if he refuses to tell you, are you out? Is that it? Because if so...you should just end things now. Kurt can't have fair-weather friends in his life, not right now." He said, raising his eyebrows.

Mercedes sighed. "Even if he doesn't ever tell me what happened...even if it_ kills _me not to know...which it is, and probably literally..." She said, rolling her eyes dully before looking sincerely into Blaine's. "I won't leave him again, promise." She said, crossing her heart with hand.

* * *

Finn sat next to Paige's hospital bed, waiting for her to wake up. He'd been with her as much as possible since the day before when his mother had promised not to sue the hospital and they'd let him come down. He'd started out talking to her, but eventually had progressed to singing. Part of him hoped he could annoy her into waking up, even though he knew that this wasn't like when she just slipped away and stopped talking and moving. He wasn't really able to come up with a lot of songs off the top of his head, so he'd had the nurse turn on the radio, and he just sang along with whatever came on.

Currently, that meant Britney Spears.

"_Oh baby, baby, the reason I breathe is you…_" Finn sang in a soft voice that contrasted oddly with the pop tunes coming from the radio. "_Paige, you got me blinded….Oh baby, baby, there's nothing that I wouldn't do, that's not the way I planned it. Show me, how you want it to be...tell me baby, cause I need to know now what we've got._" Finn sang, smiling shyly as a nurse who Finn knew was named Katrina ("but everyone calls me Kat.") came into the room and smiled at him. He'd spent a lot of time trying to convince Kat that Paige was not his girlfriend, but he'd basically given up now. He kept singing as she changed the IV connected to Paige's small hand, which somehow looked even paler then it used to.

"_My loneliness is killing me, I must confess, I still believe….When I'm not with you I lose my mind, give me a sign…_" He sang, poking Paige on her shoulder hopefully. She still didn't stir, and he sighed, and continued. "_Hit me baby one more time…_"

"Don't worry Finn, the doctors are sure she'll wake up any minute now." Kat said, smiling sympathetically. "The activity in her brain is registering as impressively stable, and we got no reason to think she's not gonna come out of this fit as a fiddle."

Finn smiled, wondering where the hell the phrase "fit as a fiddle" came from. How could a fiddle be fit, they couldn't move...how could they work out? Finn could move and he barely had time to go to the gym….

He sighed again. He bet Paige would have had some ridiculous and amusing explanations for the the phrase. He reached over and took her hand in his. "Alright, nuff's a nuff." He said sternly. "Time for you to get up." He shook her hand a little. "I swear to god, I will get the nurse to print out all the lyrics for every Buffy song, and I will sit here and sing them until you get up and-" He stopped speaking, and looked down at his hand.

Paige had squeezed his hand back.

She totally had.

He'd felt it.

Probably.

Just to make sure, he squeezed again, and again felt a light squeeze in return.

"Paige?" He squeaked excitedly, watching her face closely for signs of movement. He thought he could see her face twitch a little, and a moment later she opened her eyes.

Well, her eyelids parted a little and she squinted, but it was better than nothing.

"Fuck yeah!" Finn cheered, pumping his fist in the air. "Paige, can you hear me?" He said excitedly, still holding her hand.

She turned her head to the side a little, looking slightly confused. "Finn?" She mumbled, her voice weak. Finn nodded excitedly. "Did I save you?" She asked, looking unsure.

"Yeah you did." Finn said, trying to stop himself from crying because he was pretty sure he was about to. "It was very heroic, though I kinda wish you'd just gotten Sheila or someone instead of taking him on yourself."

Paige nodded a little and raised her other hand up, the one with the IV in it, and scratched her head. "Didn't occur to me at the time."

"That's ok, I'm just so glad you're alright." He gushed.

Paige nodded, still holding her head. "Why is Britney Spears stuck in my head?" She asked, squinting confusedly.

Finn shrugged, and looked away innocently as Kat and a doctor came into the room. "Ha, I told you I could annoy her into waking up!" He said triumphantly to Kat.

Kat smiled and shook her head. "Guess I owe you a dollar then, don't I?"

"Paige, it's nice to meet you." the doctor said, smiling at Paige. She stared at him skeptically. "I'm Dr. Giles." He said, and Paige saw her warm to him instantly.

"Is your first name Rupert?" She asked hopefully.

"Um, no...it's Dave." He said, furrowing his brow.

Paige shrugged her shoulders a little. "I'll take it."

* * *

As Blaine drove back to his house, despite the semi positive note he'd left things on with Mercedes, he couldn't help but feel..._bad_. No, bad really wasn't the right word. In fact, he didn't really know what word he could use to describe how he was feeling. Whatever it was (helpless), it was awful. It was something he hadn't felt (lost) for a long time, not since he transferred to Dalton.

In another life time, before he'd transferred, it had been something (frustrated) he'd felt often. At his old school, back before he'd been Warbler Blaine Anderson, back when he'd just been that (angry) queer kid with too-much too-curly hair…

He never thought about that life anymore, because it was over. The name calling, the teasing, the locker shoves were all over. The ridiculously painful hide-under-my-covers please-god-let-it-stop feelings should be over too.

He stopped at a red light, and put his head against the steering wheel, feeling his shoulders beginning to shake. Had he made another mistake, bringing Mercedes back into Kurt's life? Had he rushed things again?

He kept trying to make things better and it never seemed to work. He tried _so hard _but he just kept fucking things up. Of _course_ Mercedes would see that something was different, somthing was wrong with him. To Blaine and everyone else who'd watched him become a lifeless shell of his former self, failing school and avoiding life, the way he seemed now was wonderful; a welcome change and imense improvement.

But Mercedes hadn't seen any of that.

Kurt was right, in her mind he had still been that adorably naive, sassy fashionista she'd known for years...and when she saw him now, the change must have seemed like a sudden slap in the face. He was hardened and bitter, and as much as he'd improved in the past few months, he would never be the same person he was.

Blaine was fine with that. He knew parts of Kurt had changed for good, and he accepted it because the parts of him he'd fallen in love with were the same, and every day he saw more and more of the boy he'd once knew peak out from the shadows. He knew what Kurt had gone through and he admired him for being as strong as he was to have come so far, and he knew that the way he acted now, the things he said and the way his sexuality seemed to dominate him, he knew that they were the price Kurt had to pay for what had happened to him, but they were a price that could be dealt with. Things could be much worse, and they had been much worse.

Blaine had been there to see all of that, the descent down and the rise back up. Mercedes hadn't and until she understood what had happened, she would never understand that this was just who he was now.

Blaine had made a mistake. He brought Mercedes back and now she was threatening to destroy all the progress Kurt had made. She represented his old life, and Kurt was determined to keep who had been entirely separate from who he was now. Blaine didn't know how he was going to react when he told him he had to bring those worlds together...he never knew how Kurt was going to react to anything.

In the back of his mind, he heard loud angry honking sounds, and he realized that the light had turned green. He dried his tears on the sleeve of his Dalton blazer, and took a deep breath. He counted to 10, and then continued to drive forward.

* * *

Kurt sighed and rubbed his temples. He was sitting in the cafeteria with Jeff and Nick, and he'd just glanced up for the 3rd time to find himself locked into the pale gaze of that new guy. Kurt couldn't hold the gaze long enough to try and figure out what it what it wanted, because the second their eyes met, he gave a weird twitch and snapped his head away. This was getting to be a little too much. "What do you think of the new kid?" Kurt asked, nodding in his direction.

Nick glanced over to see who he was looking at, and raised his eyebrows "He's not new."

"What? Yes he is." Kurt said, furrowing his brow. "I've never seen him before."

"Nope, not new. He's old." Nick said, nodding. "He went here last year, but he had like problems...so then he left...but not he's back. Not new."

Kurt sighed. "Fine. What do you think of the old but-new-to-me kid?" Kurt asked.

Nick shrugged. "He's less twitchy than he used to be."

"I like him." Jeff offered. "He's the only person here whose as quiet and blond as me. I feel like we have some unspoken blond solidarity."

"He keep staring at me..." Kurt mumbled. "It's freaking me out a little."

"Maybe he likes you." Nick suggested. "He doesn't really seem like it, but Dalton has permanently fizzled my gaydar so maybe he is. Gay, I mean."

Jeff shook his head. "I saw him doodling a girls name on his binder, surrounded by little hearts."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "That doesn't mean anything. I've come to terms with the fact that there's just something about my ass that makes straight boys want it." He said, shrugging.

"And I've decided that no, I don't want to know what your conversation is about." Blaine said cheerfully, taking a seat next to Kurt. Kurt's heart sank. He was wearing his big fake smile, the one that Kurt was sure was almost always for his benefit.

"Hi sweetie." Kurt said, kissing him on the cheek. "Did you get that english paper back yet?"

Blaine sighed and shook his head, his smile faltering for a second (just a second though). "Nope. And I don't want to get it back."

"I'm sure you did fine. No way you got any lower that B." Kurt reassured him, and Blaine smiled widely.

"Probably." He agreed. "So are you coming to my parents, tonight?" Blaine asked hopefully.

Fuck. Kurt had been hoping he had magically forgotten about that. Or it had been canceled. Or aliens had invaded and were holding the worlds supply of ketchup hostage in an undisclosed location (and everyone knows you can't have a dinner party without ketchup).

He sighed, wishing his thoughts would at least pretend to follow some sort of logic.

"Uhh..." Kurt said, and Blaine's smile fell completely now. The look that replaced it left a knife in Kurt's gut.

"Please, Kurt?" Blaine whispered. "Come on, it'll be fun...my parents have a bunch of sound equipment set up, and everyone sings really bad karaoke...please?" He begged. Kurt looked away, his heart pounding uncomfortably. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nick and Jeff exchange "we should leave them alone" looks, and begin to stand up. Blaine stopped them. "No, you guys stay. Kurt, can I talk to you alone?" He asked, and Kurt nodded numbly.

This was not good.

Without saying another word, they got up and walked out into the mostly empty hallway. Blaine turned to him, looking hurt and disappointed. "Why won't you come?"

Kurt stuck his hands in his pockets, looking at the ground. "It's just a bad idea." He said quietly.

"Why?" Blaine asked, and Kurt winced at how angry he was beginning to sound. That scared him a little. Blaine never got angry at him.

"Because..." Kurt said, struggling to find a way to explain how much he hated being around large crowds of people who judged him...people who looked at him. Especially important people, like Blaine's family. "Blaine, I can't even eat a banana without it become a sex thing." He said finaly. "This is your _family_, what are they going to think when you bring someone like me home?"

"They'll think about what a nice, charming young man I've got for a boyfriend." Blaine said, his jaw set determinedly. "They'll love you Kurt, because I love you."

"It's just..." Kurt said, squirming. "It's just a bad idea."

"Please, Kurt?" Blaine repeated. "Look...I already told my mom you'd come. Please don't do this to me."

Kurt's jaw dropped. "Why would you do that?" He asked, his eyes wide.

"Because my she was bugging me about whether or not you were, and I thought you'd say yes." Blaine said, sounding more and more upset.

"No, you didn't." Kurt said angrily. "You thought you could trap me into going. Well, I'm sorry, but I'm not."

"Why not?" Blaine asked, girting his teeth. "Why...I do so much for you, Kurt. So much, and you can't do this one thing for me?"

Kurt felt like he'd been slapped. "That's not fair."

"Well, maybe not but a lot of things aren't fair." Blaine snapped.

"Oh, I agree." Kurt said, his heart beating furiously now. "Like you know what else wasn't fair? Being shoved against a wall everyday and fucked up the ass by my step brother." He hissed. Now Blaine looked like he'd been slapped. "I know that wasn't fair for you either, because it ruined your opportunity to show off your perfect boyfriend to your perfect family, but it's what fucking happened and we're just going to have to deal with that."

"I do deal with that, Kurt." Blaine seethed. "Every goddamned day of my life, I deal with that."

Kurt stared at him, and knew he had to get out, before he burst into tears. "Well, me too, Blaine." He spat, turning angrily on his heel. Before Blaine could get in another word, he turned on his heal and ran out to his car.

Once inside, he began to cry, his shoulders heaving and sobbing. He turned the car and jerked it out of the parking spot, driving quickly and haphazardly away from the school. Despite the cool wheather, he rolled down his windows as he drove. He felt trapped and confined, like he couldn't breathe, and he needed to feel the air on his face or he was sure his lungs would burst.

He whipped his eyes quickly with his hand, trying to rid them of the tears that turned the oncoming traffic into a bunch of dark grey and blue blurs. Why was Blaine doing this to him? _Why?_

The logical, rational part of his head told him _Blaine_ wasn't _doing anything_ to him, but he told that part of his head to just shut the fuck up.

If Blaine wasn't doing this to him, then who the fuck was?

Logical Rational remained quiet. It didn't need to say anything, because the answer was obvious. The tears were coming too quickly and too heavily to see now, and he pulled over to the side of the road. He smashed his fists against the steering wheel, crying loudly and freely, not bothering to hold back his screams and frustrated squeals.

Blaine_ was_ doing this to him, he told himself. He was because if he wasn't then Kurt had to face one of those unforgivable truths that made you look at everything you thought you knew in a new and terrifying light.

_Blaine wasn't doing this to him…_

His sobs quieted, and he tried to think. Logical Rational congratulated him, and pointed out that he was having a panic attack. He knew how to deal with panic attacks.

He closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and counted to 10 and when he opened them, he knew.

_...he was doing this to himself._

He took a deep breath, calling to mind the steps he was supposed to follow when he was having a panic attack brought on by a stressful situation. Claudia had taught him these steps a while ago, and he'd basically ignored them until now. Until now, whenever he'd had a panic attack he just called Blaine, or waited until he could talk to Blaine to sort out whatever was causing the stress.

_Step one, identify the problem. _The problem was, Blaine was trying to force him to do something he felt uncomfortable doing.

_Step two, go "inside" the problem_, down into the layers that created it. This problem had a few layers.

He couldn't handle large social situations that demanded he act normal. _That_ was a problem.

He hated being forced into doing anything he didn't want to do. Well, that a pretty pathetic problem. _Everyone_ hated being forced into things they didn't want to do. No one else freaked and said awful things to the person they loved.

The final layer was that this was all coming from Blaine.

Blaine.

Blaine was _not_ supposed to do this to him. Blaine was the person he could lean on, no matter what. Blaine was supposed to be able to handle all his problems with ease and reassurances, because he wasn't an actual person, he was some sort of magical genie with no problems or flaws of his own, whose sole reason for existing was to help Kurt with his problems, and never make mistakes.

That was the real problem, the one Kurt had caused and not Blaine.

Blaine was a 17 year old boy, and Kurt had handed him all his problems and said "solve them". And for the most part, Blaine had.

He'd seen the fake smile, seen it more and more lately...he had seen what he'd been doing to Blaine, the toll he was taking on him. He'd seen it but he hadn't done anything about it because Blaine was supposed to be able to handle everything.

He smacked his head against the steering wheel. How had he thought that? How had he not realized what he was doing to him?

It was time for a change. Kurt couldn't keep being the victim, the damsel in distress. Not if he wanted to keep Blaine. It was time for him to force himself to get better, time for him to take charge and help Blaine solve his problems for once.

He'd fucked up, big time. He knew that and he just hoped it wasn't too late to fix it. He turned the car on, hearing Logical Rational cheer him on as he did so, and continued to drive forward.


	22. Chapter 20

Chapter 20:

Finn lay on Paige's hospital bed with her, her head rested against his chest while she slept. She slept a lot lately, and the doctors said that was to be expected, but she should be fine. Finn would have gone back the psychiatric ward while she slept, but he had reason for avoiding that place for as long as possible.

When he'd gone back the night before (because he couldn't very well sleep in the medical ward, and he did need to eat at some point) he discovered that they'd gotten a new patient in.

His name was Marcel, and looking at him, Finn had realized that there was definitely a god out there. There was a god, he was real, and he hated Finn with a fiery passion.

It only took him a second, looking at Marcel's nervous, timid demeanor, his skinny jeans and the way he hugged his arms around his slight frame to know exactly why Marcel was here. Something about the way Marcel carried himself, about the frightened look in his eye that was more than just frightened, somehow it was needing and wanting too, to know what happened to him. Marcel was exactly the type of person Gorey had been talking about. He was like Lina...He was like Kurt.

Finn had spent the rest of the night in his room. When Sheila poked her head in for checks, Finn had quizzed her about him.

"You didn't put him in George's old room, did you?" He asked, panicked. It wasn't that he didn't trust himself...it was just that he didn't want to test out whether or not he could actually control himself, and if Marcel ever approached him the way Lina had...ok, he didn't trust himself. Not at all.

"No, we didn't put him in George's room." Sheila said, rolling her eyes. "We're not fucking stupid. He's on the other side of the boys ward, in one of the rooms with locks."

Finn sighed. "Thank God..." he said, sinking onto the bed. "Does he know about me?"

Sheila shook her head. "We figured it was best he didn't. On the one hand, it might make him avoid you...on the other, well...you've had your encounter with Lina." She said bitterly. "He's not in your section for group therapy, even though that's where we had the opening, so we had to switch Patricia back. I suggest you avoid him the rest of the time." She said, closing the door again.

Finn took her advice, not going into the dining room the next morning until he saw him coming out, and the second he'd finished breakfast the next morning, he bolted.

He knew he didn't want to touch Marcel, for more than one reason. The most obvious reason being that he was in no way attracted to him...but he'd never been attracted to Kurt either...not really. The more important reason, the idea of hurting someone else like that or feeding the hurt they'd already been caused made him feel sick to think about. He couldn't do that, not again...especially not now that he knew a bit how it felt.

Whenever he thought about what had happened, that was the part that terrified him the most, That was what truly made him feel ill, made him want to hide his room under the covers and never look at anyone again. Not what had been done to him, that wasn't enough on it's own...but that what had been done to him was only a small fraction of what he'd inflicted on Kurt. The humiliation, the disgust he'd felt not just with Gorey and with what he had been made to do, but the disgust he felt for himself for doing it...it couldn't compare with what he'd made Kurt do.

It was when he thought about that, that he sometimes found himself thinking maybe Paige shouldn't have saved him. He'd wanted to be saved at the time of course, and he knew if he was ever in that situation again he'd still look for a way out...but looking back…

He shouldn't have been saved.

No one had been there to save Kurt from him. No one had ever been there for Kurt. Or Lina. Or Marcel.

Or anyone else that Gorey had done something to.

Why him?

At the very least, he had to commend Marcel on his timing. If he'd come a week earlier, Gorey would have still been there and he sure seemed like his type. Might have been more his type than Finn.

That was the one positive thing he felt about what had happened to him. At least Gorey had done it to him first, and had been taken away before he could do it to Marcel. That was the one good thing about Paige saving him too.

Because if she hadn't, Gorey was right; he wouldn't have told anyone. Because he deserved it, and because he would have been ashamed. But then Marcel would have come...and Gorey would have done it to him too.

So by saving him, he guessed Paige had really saved Marcel too. Maybe that was why.

But one thing was for sure, even if he had to finish his botched suicide job to do it, he wasn't going to let himself hurt Marcel. He was going to keep him saved.

"She still sleeping?" Kat asked, peaking into the room.

Finn nodded. "She's very good at it."

Kat smiled. "You two are so cute together." She said, and Finn sighed inwardly. He wondered if she would still think that if she knew what he'd done to get into the hospital. Or about the time he'd almost done the same thing to Paige. Maybe if he told her about George, she would believe that he and Paige were nothing but friends.

George.

Shit. He didn't know. Finn looked over at small table by Paige's bedside and saw a small white piece of paper sitting on it. She must have had it in her pocket when they'd taken her in.

"Kat, is there a phone I could use somewhere?" He asked.

* * *

Kurt knocked on the door, unconsciously moving his fist against the wood at the same rate that his heart was pounding against his chest. He'd been to Blaine's house before, many times, but for some reason it seemed incredibly intimidating right now. If he was being honest with himself, something he decided he needed to be from now on, he would have to admit that he really fucking wanted to run. Fast, and far away.

But he didn't, and a moment later a woman with familiarly dark curly hair opened the door. She frowned when she saw him (_Run, I really want to run_) and Kurt guessed that meant she knew who he was.

"H-hello." He said, hating how meek his voice sounded.

"Hello." She replied cooly, eyeing the flowers in his hand. "Can I assume you're Kurt?" Kurt nodded as Blaine's mother looked him over suspiciously. She ground her teeth a little before seeming to resolve something to herself. "Come in." She said finally.

Kurt forced himself through the door, fighting his bodies every instinct to run away from the stressful situation. He was pretty sure Logical Rational was in control now, and as good as he knew that was, he still had the strong urge to just get the fuck out.

"I uh...guess you kind of hate me, huh?" Kurt said awkwardly, following her inside.

She looked him over and sighed again. "No, of course I don't hate you." She said snippily, and Kurt wasn't really inclined to believe her. "But look at this from my perspective. My son is in a relationship with someone whom he spends all his time worrying about, all the time he should be doing his own school work helping him with his, planning his every action and thought around him, and slowly I've been watching my son drive himself insane. Now whatever happened today..." She narrowed her eyes. "I don't hate you Kurt, but I can't say I'm particularly fond of you right now."

Kurt nodded. It hurt to hear but everything she'd said was completely true. "I know. I didn't realize what I was doing to him..." He said quietly. "I've been selfish...but I want to change. I love Blaine, he's been nothing but wonderful for me." He continued, thought he saw her soften a little. Just a little. "I hate that up until now, I've been just the opposite for him. I'm going to change." He said, pleading with her to believe him.

"Well, you're here..." She said, her voice losing the harsh clipped quality it'd had before. "That's something I guess. Blaine's around somewhere moping…" She said, continuing into the house. Kurt followed close behind, glancing around nervously as they entered the living room where most of the guests where. Damn Blaine had a lot of family members. "...but I don't no where exactly." She finished. "You can go look for him, if you like."

Kurt hesitated. He'd only ever been in a few of the rooms he knew Blaine's large house had and he had no idea where anything was. It could take a long, long time to find him. "I think I might get lost." He admitted.

"Yeah, this house is a little large for the three of us." She admitted. "But it's worth it when we have these gatherings." She looked around the room for a minute. "We have a speaker system set up that you can hear through out most of the house." She said, gesturing to the microphone that stood off to a corner, next to what looked like a fairly fancy karaoke machine. "You can try calling him."

Kurt's eyes lit up. He had a better idea. "Um, do you think maybe I could sing something?" He asked nervously. He had come prepared with music, though he'd been planning on singing it to Blaine when he was actually in the room. This could work though...

A smile played at her lips for a moment, and she nodded. "I can't say that I don't see you what you have in common with my son. Anderson's can never just say anything. It's not worth saying if you can't choreograph an upbeat dance number to it."

Kurt smiled, his heart aching as he thought of Blaine singing "Your Body is a Wonderland" to him. He needed to make things right with Blaine. No matter how long it took or what he had to do.

He repeated that to himself as he walked over to the Karaoke machine and popped in his own CD. He told himself that Blaine was worth this, over and over again and he didn't let himself think about everyone that was staring at him. Everyone that would be staring at him as he sang. He refused to think about that, because if he did then he would talk himself out of this. And if he talked himself out of this, then that would mean he didn't care about Blaine as much as he thought he did.

Looking directly at the microphone (_not the crowd, don't look there_), Kurt pressed play and began to sing. He hoped wherever Blaine was, he could hear him.

_I could try with the waltz_

_I could try rock'n'roll_

_I could try with the blues_

_If a song would do_

_I could sing it high or low_

_When I let you go, you know_

_I thought it was for the best_

_Now it is so obvious_

He'd picked something upbeat, with a happy, hopeful tone to it because he wanted to make sure Blaine realized that this was not his apology. This was an apology ice-breaker, a gesture to make before he did the real apologizing. He wanted Blaine to know he loved him more than anything, but he didn't want the song to say it for him. The song needed to get his attention though, and he hoped that the fact that he was singing in front of a crowd (_no do not think about the crowd, or their eyes watching you_) would make him realize Kurt was really dedicated to changing.

_So here it is, here it goes_

_I could try it rock'n'roll_

_A change-your-life-forever-tune_

_If a song could get me you_

_I could make it high or low_

_Sing it on the radio_

_If that is what I need to do_

_If a song could get me you_

_I could run for miles and miles_

_I'd take off and I'd start flying_

_I could cross land and sea_

_If you'd just believe me_

His voice was shaky, he could hear it. He was nervous...no, not nervous. He was terrified. Everyone was looking at him...watching him. He could feel them watching him. He tried to focus on the microphone, on the floor, on anything that wasn't their eyes raking over him, wondering about why he was singing, wondering who he was…

He made himself keep singing. He thought he was about to burst, but he made himself keep singing. He just hoped Blaine was listening, and knew that he was doing this for him, and he would do it for him over and over if he had to.

_I should not have hurt you so_

_This old house is not a home_

_Without you here there's no use_

_I've got no time left to lose_

_If a song could get me through_

_I'd sing my way right back to you_

_Tell me how to make it right_

_Tell me now, I'll start tonight_

_I know I could make it last_

_I swear to you that if I knew_

_What I was getting myself into_

_I wouldn't answer to my fears_

_I'd never leave you standing there_

He could feel himself sweating now, and he wasn't sure he could actually make himself get through the song. He'd thought if he just forced himself to go through with it, it would be ok but the longer he stood up here the harder it became.

Against his will, he looked up into the crowd. He sucked in his breath, stumbling over the words in his mouth.

Blaine was there. His hair was messy and the collar of his polo short was askew...Kurt felt like laughing with relieved happiness. Blaine was the only person he knew that seemed to look even better the less he tried.

"_Just look at me…_" Kurt sang, his voice becoming more confident. He had something to look at now, something he wanted to focus on.

_If you'd only see me_

_I would prove my love for you_

_I could swallow half the moon_

_Just tell me where, tell me when_

_I will have you back again_

_Yeah, here it is, here it goes_

_I could try it rock'n'roll_

_A change-your-life-forever-tune_

_If a song could get me you_

_I could make it high or low_

_Sing it on the radio_

_If that is what I need to do_

_If a song could get me you_

It was easier now that Blaine was here, it reminded him why he was doing this. He wasn't torturing himself, he wasn't doing this to punish himself, he was doing it for Blaine and it was worth it. Blaine was worth it all.

_So here it is, here it goes_

_I could try it rock'n'roll_

_A change-your-life-forever-tune_

_If a song could get me you_

_I could make it high or low_

_Sing it on the radio_

_If that is what I need to do_

_If a song could get me you…_

As he finished, he realized that he had been crying a little. He wasn't sure when it had started. He smiled as everyone applauded loudly. He knew it had not been a very good performance, but they seemed impressed anyhow. It felt nice.

He wanted to go to Blaine now, to walk through the crowd towards him, but he wasn't sure he could do it. The song was over but he felt rooted to the spot.

It turned out not to matter that he couldn't move because a moment later, Blaine came to him. Kurt smiled nervously as he approached, and reached down to pick up the flowers he'd left near the microphone. His hand shaking, he handed them to Blaine. "These, um...I bought these...they're for you." He stammered nervously, mentally kicking himself for his lack of smoothness. Blaine smiled a little and took them, staring fondly at the brightly colored bouquet. He took that as a positive sign. "I...I'm sorry Blaine." He said, his voice breaking. "I'm so sorry..."

Blaine nodded. "I'm sorry too, Kurt." He said quietly.

Kurt didn't no what to make of that, and he took a deep breath before trying to speak again. So much of him just wanted to let loose the tears he could feel bubbling up inside him, and collapse onto the floor. That was how he was used to reacting, and he knew if he did that Blaine would put his arms around him and comfort him, and make everything ok again.

So he didn't let himself do that. As easy as it felt like it would be, to just fall down, he knew that doing that would solve nothing. They'd be right back where they started. "Can we go somewhere...and talk?" He asked. Blaine nodded, and he followed him upstairs to his bedroom.

* * *

"Where is she, what happened, who can I beat up?" George asked frantically when he spotted Finn in the hallway outside Paige's room.

Finn did a double take. The image he'd had in his head of George, neat, quiet in a button down shirt and khakis, had just been oddly disrupted. His hair was a mess, he was wearing dirty looking jeans and a plain white t shirt and he was displaying more emotion than Finn thought he was capable of.

"She's in there, it's a long story and no one." Finn said, eyeing George's rumpled clothing. "Did you just get out of bed?"

George looked at him oddly. "No. It's 2:00 in the afternoon, I've been up for hours." He said.

"It's an expression." Finn said. "You just look all messy."

George glanced down at his clothes and shrugged. "I didn't bother changing when you called."

"I didn't think you owned anything besides khakis and dress shirts."

He tilted his head to the side a little. "...Those do make up the bulk of my wardrobe." He said, nodding. "But these are work clothes. If she's in there, why are you out here?" He asked, steering them back to Paige.

"The doctors are running some test that meant I had to wait out here." He said simply. "They should be done soon...what were you working on?"

George's cheeks tinged with pink, and Finn was glad at least one thing stayed the same. "A train set. I..I build model train sets." He mumbled.

Finn shook his head. "Nerd."

George chewed his lip, not bothering to disagree. "Finn...I um...I have something to tell you.." He said nervously.

"What?"

George looked at the floor, seeming to change his mind. "Er...Never mind. What happened to Paige? Why is she in here?"

"It's a long story, I told you that." Finn said with a sigh.

"Well, we've got time." George said, setting down on the floor the pot of flowers he had with him. Finn hadn't really noticed them before, he'd been too fixated on Angry-George. They were very bright and varied in colour, and the pot was a funny shape, like a "U". "Whose responsible and why can't I beat them up?"

"Gorey's responsible, and you can't beat him up because he's in jail right now, and I don't think your capable of beating up anyone. No offense." Finn said, staring at the odd flowers.

George crossed his arms across his chest. "I'm stronger than I look." He grumbled. "Now tell me what Gorey did. Why Paige?"

Finn sighed. "Well..he didn't like go after her or anything. He...he came after me." He said quietly. From the sudden widening of George's eyes and the look of horror that appeared on his face, George understood what he meant. He was thankful he didn't have to say it. "He didn't get very far, but it was still bad..." He mumbled, glancing away from George's face. "Paige saved me, but Gorey grabbed her and slammed her into the wall. No here we are."

"But she's ok? You said on the phone she was ok." George asked numbly.

Finn nodded. "They say she should be fine. And she can go back to the bin in a few days."

George nodded. "Good...good." He said.

"George, I gotta ask. What's with the flowers?" Finn asked, pointing to the pot on the ground.

"What?" George asked, then glanced down at the flowers, evidently having forgotten about them. "Oh...are you not supposed to bring flowers to someone when they're in the hospital?" George asked, bending down to pick them up.

"Yeah, you are. But not like a pot of flowers...you're supposed to bring a bouquet."

George wrinkled his nose. "I've never understood boquets of flower. You give someone these flowers, that are supposed to be symbols of your affection, or that you care about them, and they're beautiful and pretty for a little while. But they've been cut off at the stems, and essentially, you're giving someone dying flowers. And they have to watch these pretty symbols of your affection whither and die in front of them. After that they throw them out and forget about them. How is that nice?" George rambled, looking at his flowers. "No, these flowers are living things that Paige can have for years. And instead of watching them shrivel and die, she can watch them bloom and grow."

Finn stared at him, and decided not to point out that it was a probably a bad idea to give a living thing to the girl who'd killed her dog. "You have way too much thoughts." He said simply, shaking his head. George glared at him.

"They also look like a rainbow, so I know she'll love them." He added.

Finn looked at the U shaped pot again. "Huh, it does look like a rainbow...that's pretty sweet." He said. George was right, she was going to love them.

* * *

When they got into Blaine's room, he went and sat on the edge of his bed. Kurt stood there awkwardly, unsure if he should follow. He hated feeling so awkward around Blaine. He shuffled his feet a little, and took a deep breath. "Blaine, I'm sorry." He repeated,

"You said that already." Blaine said softly. Kurt couldn't take it anymore. He went over to the bed and sat down next to Blaine, and took his hands in his.

"I don't mean for our fight today. I mean about everything. Everything I've been doing to you." Blaine looked at him, his eyes sad and tired, and Kurt rushed forward before either of them could start crying. "Ever since I met you Blaine, you've always seemed so strong to me. Unbreakable...and when I was drowning you pulled me up, and you saved me. You've done so much for me, sometimes I get the feeling that I don't even really know the extent of how you help me, everyday." He smiled, and the look in Blaine's eyes told him he was right. " And because you've always been there, and you've always been so strong, I just kept taking all of my problems, and putting them on your shoulders. You let me lean on you, and I'm grateful for that everyday….but I've been crushing you. I didn't...I didn't think you could be crushed and I hate myself for doing it….but things are going to change. I promise, because I love you. So much, Blaine, and I couldn't bear to see our relationship destroyed-"

"It won't be." Blaine cut in, speaking for the first time. "Never."

Kurt smiled, inwardly relieved. "It will if things continue the way they are. You're not a superhero, I'm going to stop treating like you...and you're going to stop acting like one, ok?" He whispered. "I don't want to crush you anymore."

Blaine looked at him. "I like helping you, Kurt. I like that you lean on me...that you need me." He said quietly.

Kurt smiled. "Well, you're in luck because I think I'll always need you. And I love that I can lean on you if I need to...but not like I have been. It's not how things are supposed to be, Blaine...one person shouldn't be putting all their weight on the other. It's not fair." He hesitated a moment, before reaching up and placing on hand against Blaine's smooth cheek. "So maybe from now on, I'll lean on you a little, and you can just lean back on me, huh?" He asked, running his thumb along his jaw bone. "And we'll support each other."

Blaine nodded, and Kurt moved a little closer to him on the bed, so that there thighs were pressed against each others. "Are you sure you can do that? If we want this to work, it's going to have to be an equal relationship, ok?" He smiled. "That means that if you're worried about school, or home, or whatever, I want you to be able to come to me to try and figure things out. I want you to count on me to make you laugh when you want to cry, and hold you when you have too." He leaned forward and placed a small kiss on Blaine's cheek. "And if you've had a shitty day, I want you to be able to call me at 11:00 at night to bitch and whine about it." Blaine smiled a little, and Kurt grinned. "I'm serious. No more bottling up your troubles. I want to hear about every broken nail, every stumble in the hallway, every time you have a fight with your parents because they like totally just don't get you, man." Kurt said, making his voice deep. Blaine laughed, but it was a choked sound. He looked at Kurt, and he saw he was crying.

Before Kurt had time to mentally go over everything he'd said to figure out which part of it had made Blaine cry, Blaine had grabbed him and pressed his mouth against him with desperate force. "Kurt...I'm so sorry." He choked between kisses.

"For what?" Kurt asked, wrapping his arms around Blaine's neck as they kissed. Blaine didn't answer for a moment, but continued kissing him. Eventually they fell back on the back on the bed, and Blaine slid his hands down Kurt's body. Just when Kurt began to think that they were done talking for now, the kisses slowed and stopped, and Blaine slid off him, propping himself up on his elbow.

"For what I said to you today, for how I acted..." He said quietly, still breathing heavily.

"Me too." Kurt said, and bit his lip. "I can't beelive what I said or how I acted..I was awful." He looked at Blaine sadly, hoping he knew how much he regretted saying those things to him. "You're right, you do so much for me...I could have done this for you."

Blaine shook his head. "I never should tried to use that against you. I do it because I want to, because I love you and I want to see you get better."

Kurt smiled, and placed a light kiss on Blaine's lips. "I think I can give you a free pass, considering." He said, snuggling closer to Blaine on the bed.

Blaine lay back down and began to kiss him again, trailing his hands down to Kurt's black skinny jeans. Although it seemed to go against ever instinct in his body, Kurt stopped him. "Don't you want to go back to the party?" He whispered, breaking their kiss a little.

Blaine looked at him, surprised. "You don't want to….?"

Kurt grinned, and shook his head. Of _course _he wanted to. But he knew Blaine would regret missing everything later. "And let you miss the chance to show off your perfect boyfriend to your incredibly large family?" Kurt asked, sliding out from under him. He got off the bed, and pulled Blaine up as well, and into a final kiss.

Blaine brushed a few stray hairs off Kurt's face, and hugged him tightly. "Thank you, Kurt." he whispered. They held each other for a few more minutes, and then went back down to Blaine's family.

* * *

When they were finally allowed inside Paige's room, she let out an incredibly painful squeal, followed by a shriek of horror, after which she hid under the covers. "Don't look at me, I look scarier than usual!" She cried.

"You look fine, Paige." Finn said, taking a seat on the edge of her bed. To be honest, she was looking a bit more like her old, ghostly self, but that was to be expected. However, he knew she wouldn't appreciate hearing that.

"Come on Paige." George said gently, taking a seat in the chair next to her bed. "I mean sure, these are very nice sheets...but I did come to see you, and not them." He poked the cover's gently, where theoretically Paige's shoulder would be.

Slowly, Paige peaked the top of her head out, so just her dark eyes were showing. "You made a joke." She said, surprised.

"I did." George said, looking very pleased with himself.

"He does that sometimes." Finn said. "Usually when it's the most annoying."

"We all have our talents." He said, nodding. Paige stuck the rest of her head out, and began flattening her hair quickly with her hands.

George smiled. "I brought you flowers." He said quietly, placing them on her bedside table.

"Real live flowers?" She asked, looking at the pot. "That's so smart! I _hate_ getting flowers, I totally never understood why their supposed to be a nice thing to get, because they die in like a week and it's sad. And oh my god, these look like a rainbow? Did you know that?" She squealed.

"I did indeed." George said, obviously thrilled but containing himself.

"Right...I'm gonna leave you two alone now." Finn said, getting up.

"Where are you going to go?" She asked.

"Good-bye." George said, staring at Paige.

Finn rolled his eyes. "I think I'll go hide out in my room." He said.

"You sure?" Paige asked, staring back at George now.

"He's sure."

Finn sighed. "I'm sure." He closed the door and wandered out in the hallway, wondering what the hell he was going to do now. Go back to the bin, he supposed...but Marcel would be there.

Finn sighed. He would just make sure to stay in the main room with someone at all times. If he could avoid being alone with him, it should be fine. He slowly began to wander back up to the psychiatric ward, hoping that this would be the final test of his recovery.

* * *

The song Kurt sings is called "If a song could get me you" by Marit Larsen, and it never fails to make me smile when I feel sad.


	23. Chapter 21

Chapter 21:

After rejoining the party, two things became very apparent to Kurt very quickly. One; Blaine had a lot of family. He'd been able to see that right away, but it turns out the crowd who'd watched him sing had barely been a third of everyone that was actually there.

He was sure he hadn't met all or even most of them, but it sure as hell felt like it. It seemed like Blaine had a never ending stream of relatives to introduce him too, and each of them had the same conversation with him.

It basically went:

Relative: Oh so _you're_ the one whose stolen our little Blainie's heart away?

Blaine: Relative! [Blush]

Kurt: [Smile] I guess so. Although, I maintain that he was the one who stole my heart first, so it was only fair that I get his back.

Relative: [Much louder laugh than was appropriate] Oh you're too cute. [insert cheek pink, shoulder slap, and/or enthusiastic hand shake here]

Blaine: Trust me, Relative, he knows [Grin]

Kurt: [Shrug] I do.

Relative: [Chuckle] Oh look, Another [Cousin/aunt/uncle/grandparent] is getting into [an argument/the desert for later/the blueberry schnapps] again. [Rushes off]

[Repeat]

The second thing that he'd quickly learned was that every single one of them were extremely touchy feely. By the end of the evening, Kurt had been patted on the back, had his hair ruffled, hugged, squeezed, pushed and poked and had his hands either grabbed and shaken, or held tightly more times than he could count. And he was pretty sure Blaine's Aunt Lizzie had actually pinched his butt at one point, but he couldn't be positive.

It was 11:00 now, and he was collapsed on the couch, while two of Blaine's small cousins (either named Jenny and Ben or Jenny and Brad...he couldn't remember) proceeded to remove his shoes, and then socks, and make them talk to each other. He was far too tired to stop them.

"You have nice feet." Jenny said, lifting one up in her hands. Ben/Brad nodded.

"They don't smell, like Blaine's." He said, driving one of his shoes around like a car.

"My feet don't smell." Blaine said, walking into the room and sitting down next to Kurt. He kissed him on the cheek, smiling so obnoxiously that Kurt suddenly realized how worth it his current exhaustion was.

"They do smell a little." Kurt said, shifting just a little bit so that his head was resting on Blaine's shoulder. "I love you anyways."

"And that's how you know it's true love." One of Blaine's aunts (Selena, he thought) said, coming into the room and scooping up Jenny. "When they know your feet smell, and love you anyhow."

"Yeah, I guess he's a keeper." Blaine said, and kissed him.

Ben/Brad made a barfing sound. "Kissing is gross." He said, shaking his head.

"Not if you find the right person to do it with, Brad. Then you see fireworks and the room spins around like in the movies." Jenny said wisely, resting her head on her mothers chest.

Ben/Brad (whose name it would appear was in fact Brad) considered this. "Really? Does the room spin when you kiss him?" He asked, crinkling his nose a little.

"Every time." Blaine said, looking fondly at Kurt, grinned back.

"I was talking to Kurt, Smelly feet." Brad said, rolling his eyes. Blaine stuck out his tongue.

Kurt laughed and put his hands on Blaine's, in his lap. "The room hasn't stopped spinning since I met him."

"Told you so." Jenny said, yawning. Selena smiled and said it was time to go, and Brad reluctantly gave Kurt his shoes back.

"Bye Smelly feet, by Kurt." He said, getting up and taking his mothers hand. "I'm happy you guys are in love in stuff, even if it's gross."

"Me too." Kurt said, resting his head back against Blaine's shoulder.

* * *

Things had been fine for two days. He'd spent most of his time with Paige, who was looking better every time he saw her, and when he had to be there he either stayed in his room or the main room, far away from wherever Marcel was. Mostly, Marcel paid little attention to him. He spent most of his time reading quietly, huddled up in a corner with his knees pressed tightly against his chest. Whenever someone walked too close to him, he recoiled visibly, but other than that he showed little concern for anyone else. Finn had watched him for a little, and saw that he tended to glance over at the TV area every now and then (and at Michael?) but generally kept his attention focused on whatever he was reading.

That was all fine. Finn was just beginning to think maybe he would never have to really have any interaction with him when fate and all it's hateful bitchiness intervened. And by fate, he meant Lina.

That morning when he'd walked out into the main room, he'd seen Marcel having a hushed conversation with her. At first he'd tried to tell himself that they could be talking about anything, anything at all. But then Marcel had glanced up, and at him, with a look of obvious interest, and Finn knew that Lina had told him who he was, and why he was here.

He could have murdered her, right then and there. Instead, he decided that he would just forgo breakfast, and dashed out of the ward.

* * *

"Move over, Queer-face." Blaine's cousin, Damien, said, squishing them down on the couch. Kurt thought he'd been joking when he'd called him "Damien" but it turns out that was actually his name.

How fitting.*

"Can't you watch somewhere else, Damien?" Blaine moaned.

"Yeah, there's like 10 million rooms with TV's in here." Kurt agreed.

Damien looked shocked. "But we always watch a movie after these things!" He said, clutching his chest although Blaine's suggestion had broken his heart. "It's a tradition."

"What's a tradition?" A cousin named Melissa asked, walking in and going over to the TV.

"Watching a movie after family gatherings and crashing here." Damien said. "Queer-face and Boyfriend of Queer-face are trying to kill it." He pouted.

Melissa rolled her eyes. "Maybe that's because you keep calling them stuff like Queer-face and Boyfriend of Queer-face." She said, putting in a DVD.

Damien shook his head. "I don't think that's it."

"It sort of is." Kurt said, raising his eyebrows.

"He's been calling me that since he was 7." Blaine said, shrugging. "I barely notice anymore."

"Exactly, Penis-Breath." Damien said with grin. Blaine just rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, Rug-Muncher." Kurt said, and Damien widened his eyes.

"You can't call me that..."

"Why not?" Kurt asked. It would appear he'd gotten a second wind. "You like girls, right? Ergo, rug-muncher."

"Because...that's gross." He said with a frown.

Melissa sat down on the floor in front of the couch. "Damien's a virgin in the worst way." She snickered, and Damien smacked her.

"Don't hit your cousin!" Blaine said, and smacked him back.

"Hypocrite." Damien muttered, rubbing the back of his head. "You're a hypocrite with Penis-Breath."

"You're an idiot with Stink-Finger." Kurt said, shrugging. "It all works out."

Blaine smiled and kissed him on the cheek quickly. Then he turned to Damien and Melissa. "Where are Viv, Tony, Breenie and Vin?"

"You have a cousin named Breenie?" Kurt asked.

"You met Breenie." Blaine said, surprised. "She was the one who'd said you should be a model for Alexander McQueen...and it's sort for Sabrina."

"Oh, right." Kurt said, remembering the very blond (with terrible roots) 12 year old. "I liked Breenie."

Melissa made a humph noise and crossed her arms. "The beauty queen is coming. Her and Vin were still playing with the karaoke machine."

Eventually, the cousins Kurt remembered as "Viv" and "Tony" wandered into the room, and sat down on another couch.

"What movie we watching?" Viv asked, pulling a cell phone out of her pocket. Kurt hadn't even noticed what Melissa had put in.

Apparently, Blaine and Damien hadn't either.

"No way." Damien said, looking at the case next to the TV.

"I agree with Stink-Finger." Blaine said, and Damien jumped on him, and knocked him off the couch. Melissa darted away to avoid getting hit as they rolled around on the floor, pretending to wrestle. Well, Blaine was pretending to wrestle, but Kurt was pretty sure Damien was really trying to hurt him. Unfortunately, his 13 year old muscles were no match for Blaine.

"I have to side with the Tweedles." Tony said, watching them roll around wearily."Not watching that."

"You'll watch it with me, won't you?" Melissa asked Kurt, climbing up on the couch.

"Sex in the City 2?" Kurt said, raising his eyebrows. "What's a nice way of saying 'I'd rather let tiny mutants dig themselves into my skull and pick my brain apart slowly'?"

Melissa pouted.

"Sorry Mel, Kurt's the guest. His say in final." Tony said, and Kurt smiled at him. Tony was 20, and the oldest of Blaine's cousins. He was also the most attractive.

"Whatever. Beth saw that in theaters and said it was lame faced." Viv remarked, still doing something on her phone. Melissa glared at her cousin.

"Come on Mel, we always vote on what to watch." Blaine said, sitting on Damien's back as he tried to squirm out from under him.

"How is someone so short so heavy?" He gasped, clawing at the floor. Blaine put his hand on Damien's forehead, forcing it against the ground.

"He makes up for his height in other areas." Kurt said, then bit his lip. _Oops._

Blaine blushed, and Damien made a gaging sound. "Oh gross, _get off me!_"

Viv looked fairly unaffected, and barely glanced up from her phone. Tony laughed and offered his fist to Blaine to bump, but Blaine just shook his head slowly, and stood up to sit next to Kurt, who whispered an apology. Blaine patted him on the shoulder and told him it was ok.

Melissa was oddly quiet, and Blaine glanced at her and then at Kurt, before raising his eyebrows. Kurt sighed.

"Um, Melissa...I uh...didn't mean to say that." He said awkwardly. "I mean...sorry."

Melissa rolled her eyes. "I'm 14. I know about sex and stuff." She said, but still seeming quiet. Damien threw himself on the floor again.

"Oh gross, we're_ not _talking about Blaine's gay sexing." He cried, pretending to choke himself.

"We're not having sex." Blaine said quickly. "No gay sex."

Melissa looked surprised. "Really?" She asked, and Kurt nodded. "Huh..." She blushed and looked at the floor. "Well, oh...because I was wondering...like, how you would do it anyways...but if you're not..."

"We're not having this conversation!" Blaine and Damien cried, wearing similar expressions of horror. It was then that Kurt realized how much they looked alike. Damien had Blaine's triangle eyebrows. Tony was laughing quietly to himself.

"But I'm curious!" Melissa said.

"Yeah, me too." Tony chuckled.

"And you will all remain curious." Blaine said, getting up and taking "Sex and the City 2" out of the DVD player.

"Whatever." Viv muttered.

"Pshht...I bet you don't even know." Melissa mumbled, crossing her arms. "I bet you don't even have penis-breath."

Kurt clamped his mouth down, not trusting himself to say anything. Eventually Breenie and Vin wandered in, and the topic was brought back to movies.

"Let's watch that movie with the guy in the thing." Damien said, finally getting off the floor and sitting next to Blaine again.

"127 hours?" Blaine asked, surprised.

Damien nodded. "Yeah, you said that looked good, right Blaine?"

Vin nodded as well, looking at Blaine. He was 13 too, but much quieter than Damien.

Blaine nodded and glanced at Tony, who also seemed to approve. Kurt thought the hierarchy that existed between them was amusing. "Kurt has final say." Tony said, much to Kurt's surprise.

"Oh...sure. Seems like my kind of movie." Kurt said with a shrug.

"Really?" Viv, Melissa, Damien, Vin and Breenie said at the same time.

"His kind of movie is anything non-romantic." Blaine said, slinging an arm around him.

Kurt shrugged. "Why would I want to watch fake romance when I have the real deal?" He said. Then he shut his mouth to stop himself from following that up with "that's also why I don't watch porn." Instead, he just smiled at Blaine, who grinned back.

Vin and Damien rolled their eyes, while Breenie, Melissa and Viv "awwed" simultaneously. Tony smiled.

About halfway through the movie, Blaine's parents joined them. Kurt expected to feel really awkward, sitting with Blaine's parents...but it was actually oddly nice. Cozy.

Blaine kept his arm around him while they watched it, and Kurt let Blaine put his face against his shoulder during the hard to watch parts, and Blaine hugged him tightly during the emotional ones (damn is James Franco a good actor). Every time Damien or Vin thought they made a witty comment, they looked at Blaine for approval. Blaine did the same thing with him and Tony.

* * *

"Are you sure you're well enough to come back?" Finn asked as he, George and Kat led Paige back to the psychiatric wing. "You don't need to rush anything."

"She's fine, Finn. And we trust you to take care of her." Kat reassured him.

"He just doesn't want lose his excuse to avoid the bin." Paige said, rolling her eyes. "It's not concern for my well being."

"Hey, I am always concerned for your well being." Finn said defensively. "Although yeah, not having to be near you-know-who was nice."

"Who?" Kat asked.

"You're going to have face him eventually. And I have full confidence in you, Finny." Paige said.

"Who?" Kat repeated.

"No one of importance." George said, shrugging. "We can take it from here, Kat." George said went they reached the door, and pressed the buzzer to go in.

"Who is it?" The woman who manned the door, Eleanor, asked.

"Katerina Markovic, bringing patient Paige Henderson back from the medical ward." Kat said, holding up her identification to the camera. "I also have patient Finn Hudson with me, and a visitor for Paige, who she already OK'ed."

They heard Eleanor grumbling about paperwork, but she pressed the button to let them in, handing George a form to fill out.

"Do you see him?" Finn asked when they got inside.

"Yes." George said immediately, spotting him in a corner, peering at Finn over the book he was reading.

"Oh, he's _cute_." Paige said, and George's eyes flared angrily.

"Well, sure, if you like the whole fragile, dark mystique thing..." George mumbled.

Finn raised his eyebrows. "Maybe it's not me he should be worried about."

George glared at him, and Paige laughed, and threw her arms around him. "I made George jealous, yay!" She said, giggling.

"Yeah, it was a real accomplishment." Finn said, rolling his eyes and pulling them over to the couch. "So I'll just spend all of my time in here, surrounded by people...or in my room." He said. "And I won't look at him, ever, so he doesn't feel threatened."

"He's not showing you the same respect." George said. "He's staring at you."

Finn put his head in his hands. "Fucking Lina...I am going to throttle her."

"She just does it for attention. And because she's kind of a bitch." Paige said. "Now, if you excuse me, I need to go find Sheila and get my clothes back." She said, walking away in her hospital gown.

"Finn I need to tell you something." George said, the moment Paige was gone. "I know Kurt."

"What?" Finn asked, snapping his head up. What? "What?"

"I...I used to go to Dalton Academy...and now I go there again...and now...well, _he's _there." George said, twitching a little.

"Why didn't you tell me you used to go to Dalton?" Finn asked, staring at him and trying to process what this meant. Had Kurt said something about him?

"Why didn't you tell me Kurt went to Dalton!" George said shrilly. "Do you have any idea what that was like? Walking into my first period class and seeing him there? He's not supposed to be someone I see, ever. Fuck Finn, the things I know about him..." George looked away bitterly, and Finn just stared at him in silence. He'd never heard George swear before. "I spent 6 months listening to you talk about forcing him to do these awful, disgusting things...listening to cry his name at night...and now I have to see him every freaking day. When I first saw him, I swear I had about 13 panic attacks in a row."

"I..I'm sorry George." Finn said quietly, unsure what else he could say. This was just another way he'd royally fucked up someone's life.

George sighed. "It's fine...I guess. I'm used to it now. Although, I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm stalking him or something. I keep finding myself staring at him in class, and he keep catching me. But I can't help it, you know? You hear about someone for so long, and then they're just..._there_...it's weird." He said, shaking his head.

"How...how does he seem?" Finn asked quietly.

George shrugged. "Most times he seems fine. Sometimes he seems really tired, or something...but most of the time, he's...happy, I guess. He has friends, and I've always thought Jeff seemed nice. Nick freaks me out...I can't talk to him. He speaks like backwards or something, it panics me...and I don't really know much about Blaine, except that he's popular and seems to eat, sleep and breathe Kurt."

Finn nodded. His mother had told him he was with Blaine. He was happy for them. "I'm glad that he's doing well."

George looked away uncomfortably. "Yeah but...the other guys..." He swallowed, and made himself look at Finn. "They say things about him, Finn. Bad things."

"Like what?" Finn asked, his heart beating. Gorey's words started coming back to him...about how he'd probably turned Kurt into...he didn't want to think about it.

"Well, one guy says he tried to give Jake Minaccia a hand job in the boys bathroom...and another said he saw Kurt giving some guy a blow job in the back of an alley..." George said quietly.

Finn ran his fingers through his hair, and gripped his forehead. "...no. Kurt wouldn't do that. He's...he's better than that."

"It's just what people say." George said quietly. "I don't...I don't _think _it's true."

"Of course it's not true!" Finn cried, staring at George. "You need to tell people that it's not true."

George looked at the floor. "It's not really my place..."

"Oh who fucking cares!" Finn screamed. "Look, if people are saying shit about him than you have a right to defend him. Please George?"

"I..if I hear anymore...I'll...s-say something." He squeaked, looking incredibly terrified at the prospect.

"Promise?"

"I promise." He said quietly, twitching his shoulders.

Finn nodded. "Sorry for yelling...I just...I hate to think that I made him like Lina."

George didn't say anything, deciding not to tell him how much the looks Kurt gave him when he caught him staring reminded him of Lina...reminded him of the looks Marcel was giving Finn right now. Like he was trying to figure out what he wanted from him.

* * *

When the movie was over, Kurt looked at the clock and found it was almost 2:00 am. "Wow, I gotta go." He said, slowly standing up.

"Oh, don't be silly Kurt." Blaine's mother said. "Just sleep here tonight."

"Yeah!" Blaine said, jumping up excitedly. "I have pajama's you can borrow, and an extra toothbrush-"

"And in the morning, I'm making waffles!" Blaine's Dad said. Kurt smiled. He liked Blaine's parents. Now that his mother had warmed up to him, she seemed really nice, and she was very elegant. Kurt could see where Blaine got his Blaineness from. Blaine's Dad on the other hand, seemed completely opposite. He was goofy, with a bright smile and child like sense of humor. He'd also clearly passed down his height (or lack there of) to Blaine. They were about the same size.

"Shrek reference for the win!" Damien cheered, high fiving his uncle.

"Way to be lame, Dad." Blaine mumbled, his face red.

Damien looked heartbroken. "Shrek is lame?"

"I love Shrek. The first two at least." Kurt offered.

"Huh...you're not so bad, Penis-Breathed boyfriend." Damien said.

"Damien!" Blaine's mother and father exclaimed. "That is no way to talk to anyone, let alone a guest!"

"It's not my fault they have penis breath..." Damien said with a shrug, then ran.

"I'm so sorry about that, Kurt." Blaine's mother said, shaking her head.

"I'll go beat him up, it's cool." Tony said, standing up.

"It's fine." Kurt said with a smile. "And I'll have to ask my Dad about sleeping over."

"Oh, psh." Blaine's mother said, waving her hand dismissively. "You've slept over before, haven't you? And this time, we'll actually be here."

"Exactly. And you can tell you're father that Blaine's bed room is right down the hall from ours, so if we hear any shenanigans going on, we'll be right there to snap embarrassing pictures to use for blackmail." Blaine's father added, smiling brightly. Blaine smacked himself in the forehead with his palm. His Dad's lack of dapperness was obviously a great source of embarrassment for him.

Kurt smiled and called his father who, after a lot of I'm-not-happy-about-this grunting and groaning, said yes.

"Brilliant!" Blaine said excitedly, giving a wide smile. "Come, on Kurt." He said, pulling him upstairs. Once upstairs, Kurt collapsed on the bed.

Blaine smiled, and lay down next to him, kissing his neck. "You were great tonight, Kurt..." he murmured. "Everyone loved you."

Kurt smiled, and closed his eyes. He lifted his arm up and ran it through Blaine's hair, still slightly stiff from the gel. "They're nice."

Blaine snorted. "Yeah, Damien's a real charmer."

"He loves you." Kurt said, grinning sleepily. "It's cute."

"He's been calling be a range of homophobic slurs since before he was old enough to know what a homophobic slur was." Blaine pointed out, tilted his head up to kiss Kurt's ear. He slid his hand over Kurt's chest, undoing the buttons on it.

"He loooves you." Kurt mumbled. "Loves, loves loves."

"They didn't touch you too much, did they?" Blaine asked, looking at him worriedly.

Kurt shivered. "I only felt mildly violated."

"I'm sorry...I should have warned you about that..." Blaine said quietly.

Kurt kissed him him softly on the lips, breathing in the comforting scent of his cologne. "It's ok. I had a series of about 20 consecutive panic attacks when I first started meeting them, but I'm pretty sure that by the end of the night I became totally desensitized."

"Yeah?" Blaine asked, smiling, and trailing his fingers along Kurt's bare chest. "Well, that's good."

Kurt nodded. "I suppose."

"And you sung." Blaine continued. "In front of a big group of people. How was that?"

Kurt opened his eyes now, and looked at Blaine. "At first...it was awful." He bit his lip, and rolled over a little so he was lying half on top of Blaine, who lay back on the bed and wrapped his arms over Kurt's neck. "I didn't think I'd be able to finish...I thought I was going to cry, or puke, or fall down, or possibly a combination of all those things…."

"But you didn't. And you got through it...and it was beautiful." Blaine whispered.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I'm fairly sure it was more than a sub-par performance." He said. "But I don't care about that. I just wanted you to know that I loved you enough to do that, no matter how hard it was. That's what got me through it."

Blaine smiled, and kissed him softly. "Thank you, for everything..." He said softly.

"Thank you." Kurt replied, running a finger along Blaine's cheek. He kissed him back, and they lay there for a while, holding each other and kissing softly.

"Kurt..." Blaine said, after a while. He hadn't moved his head away, and their lips were still pressed together as he spoke. "I think...I think if you want to...um..."

"What?" Kurt whispered, brushing a finger against Blaine's lower lip.

Blaine swallowed, and Kurt could feel his face heat up. "Sex." He said simply.

Kurt froze. "Really?" He asked, moving away now. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked at Blaine. "You really want to?"

Blaine nodded, his face red. "I do."

Kurt felt a huge grin spread across his face. "Oh god, Blaine, thank you!" He said, taking Blaine's face in hands and kissing him hard, and fast.

Blaine smiled. "So you want to?" He mumbled as Kurt pressed desperate kisses over his mouth.

"I'd do it right now if you wanted to." Kurt said, trying to keep the squeal out of his voice.

Blaine nodded. "I want you to talk to Claudia about it, first. Make sure it's ok." He said seriously.

Kurt paused, and nodded. "That's a good idea." Kurt agreed.

They kissed for a little while longer, and eventually the hunger in Kurt's kisses died down. "We should go to sleep...it's late." He whispered. Blaine nodded, and they both undressed, choosing to sleep in their boxers. Blaine snuggled against Kurt's back, and wrapped an arm around his chest as he began to doze off, into the first peaceful sleep he's had in what felt like forever.

* * *

* This is a reference to the horror movie "The Omen", which is about [spoilers, I guess, for the omen!] a little kid who turns out to be the anti-christ. Damien is quite evil.


	24. Chapter 22

**A/N: I know updates have been slow lately, I wanted to update more this week but I have had a massive, torturous headache for the last 4 or 5 days. It's probably a bad idea for me to write this story when I'm in pain, since that's when I start thinking things like "Hmm, nothing **_**horribly**_** tragic has happened for a few chapters now...how can I fuck everyone's shit up?"**

**Oh no, what **_**have**_** I done?**

* * *

Chapter 22:

In the morning, Kurt and Blaine woke up and found Blaine's father making waffles, as promised.

"Seriously, Dad?" Blaine asked, eyeing what looked like 3 tons of batter.

"I said I would, didn't I?" Blaine's father said with a shrug. "Damien would pitch a fit if he came down and didn't find _something _unhealthy waiting for him."

"Waffles aren't that bad for you, actually. They're denser than pancakes, which makes them more fattening, but still they're not awful." Kurt said, leaning against the counter.

Blaine's Dad laughed. "Your Mom's going to love him." He said, shaking his head.

Kurt glanced at Blaine, and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, she's always asking how many calories things have in them and the fat content and stuff." Blaine explained. "Having someone who can provide a better answer than 'I dunno' will be a nice change for her."

"Well now that you boys are here you can help me get breakfast ready." His father said cheerfully. "There's fruit that needs to be chopped and Tony's that need to be woken. Blaine, do the fruit. Kurt, get the Tony."

"Dad, my boyfriend is not a slave." Blaine said, taking out containers of fruit from the fridge.

"I don't mind." Kurt said, happy to be able to help. "Which room was Tony sleeping in?"

"Third one down from Blaine's room, to the left." Blaine's Dad said, pouring too much batter into the waffle press. He watched it overflow and shrugged, apparently unconcerned.

"Nice, Dad." Blaine said, getting a towel and cleaning up the spilt batter.

Kurt smiled and went up the stairs to go find Tony. He knocked on the door three down from Blaine's room but got no response. "Tony?" He called, knocking again. This time he heard a grumble from behind the door.

"Whaddaya want?" Tony called groggily from inside.

"Um, Blaine's Dad is making waffles." He said, opening the door and peaking inside. Tony was yawning, and slowly pulling himself out of bed. He smiled sleepily at Kurt, who turned to leave now that Tony was awake.

"Hey, wait a minute." Tony called. "Come here, I wanted to talk to you."

Kurt bit his lip nervously, but went inside. The door shut behind him. "What about?" Kurt asked, fiddling with his sleeve. Something about being alone with Blaine's cousin in the dark room felt very strange.

Tony yawned again, and stretched his muscles. Kurt gulped. Tony wasn't wearing a shirt, and Kurt couldn't help but notice that he had a very nice chest. He hadn't gotten Blaine's short-gene either. "So, you and my cousin are pretty serious, huh?" He asked, walking over to where Kurt stood.

Kurt nodded, trying to pretend that he wasn't checking him out.

"But you're not having sex?" He asked, folding his arms across his chest and raising his eyebrows in a "I'm onto you" type way.

"No." Kurt said. "Not yet, anyways."

Tony nodded. "I appreciate the honesty." He said, and licked his lips. Kurt gulped again, suddenly very aware of how close Tony was standing. Close enough so that if he took one step forward and reached his arms out, he could have Kurt pinned against the wall. "But why do I get the feeling that you're more experienced than Blaine?" He asked quietly.

He was close enough now that Kurt could smell the musky scent of sleep still clinging to his body, and his breathe quickened. The room felt smaller then it had a few moments ago, and far too warm. A cold sweat dripped down his neck as he realized he could see it all in his head; Tony pressing him against the wall, Tony's hands on him...Tony's mouth on him. "I d-dunno..." He stammered.

"I just want to make sure you're not going to hurt my cousin. I try and look out for him, you know." Tony said, stepping closer to him. Kurt backed himself against the wall. He didn't want this, at all. He was breathing heavily and at the same time, somehow couldn't breathe at all. Tony knitted his eyebrows together, looking at him. "Are you alright?"

"I'm f-fine." He said, wrapping his arms around himself. "C-can I go now?" He asked.

"Yeah, but what's wrong-" Tony began, but Kurt was already darting out of the room.

He rushed down the stairs again, finding Blaine waiting at the bottom of them. "Hey, what was taking so long?" He asked. Kurt rushed into his arms, burying his face against Blaine's shoulder. He took deep breathes, letting Blaine's familiar scent slow his pulse and ease the pounding in his chest. "Kurt, what's wrong?" Blaine asked, wrapping his arms around him.

Tony was coming down the stairs now, having grabbed a shirt off his floor. Blaine looked up and stared at his cousin, who held his hands up innocently. "I swear, I didn't do anything."

"Kurt?" Blaine asked. "Tell me what happened." Tony gaped at him.

"Seriously, you don't trust me?" Tony asked, hurt. "When you were 5 you tried to eat bleach, and I stopped you by eating it myself, to show you why _you_ shouldn't."

"Nothing happened, Blaine." Kurt said quietly, feeling himself calming down. He felt like an idiot. Tony had never been going to hurt him. "I just had a panic attack."

"Why?" Blaine asked, staring at Tony again.

"I was just giving him the whole 'Don't hurt my cousin' talk!"

"What?"

"It's my right, dude. You get a boyfriend, and I get to intimidate him." Tony said, stuffing his hands in his pocket.

"Seriously Blaine, he didn't do anything wrong." Kurt said, taking his head off his shoulder. "I just...I don't know, freaked out."

"Yeah!" Tony said. "I mean, I'm sorry I freaked you out, but yeah."

"Ok, where did everyone go?" Blaine's father asked, wandering out of the kitchen. Kurt smiled when he saw he was covered in batter.

"Sorry, Mr. Anderson." Kurt said. "I'll come help you."

"Thank you, Kurt." Blaine's dad said. He looked at Blaine. "Just remember, you're replaceable."

Blaine shook his head, going to follow Kurt and his Dad into the kitchen. Tony grabbed his arm. "Dude, what the hell?"

"What, Tony?" Blaine asked.

"What the hell?" Tony repeated, gesturing to the kitchen.

Blaine sighed. "You're going to need to add more to that sentence for me to know what you're talking about."

"You're boyfriend. I barely got to say anything remotely intimidating and he freaked out. He had this look on his face like he thought I was gonna deck him or something." Tony said. "Seriously, is he ok?"

"He's fine." Blaine said, shifting uncomfortably on his feet.

"Bullshit. He is not fine. He was like hyperventilating and trembling." Tony said. Blaine sighed again. His cousin sounded cornered, but no way was he telling him anything.

"Look, Tony just trust me when I say that Kurt is fine, and we're handling things together, ok?" Blaine said.

"We are?" Kurt asked, coming up behind him. Blaine laughed, pulling Kurt into his arms. He was covered in batter now too.

"We definitely are." Blaine said, wiping a bit of batter off his forehead.

"Blaine, you're Dad is not getting along with the waffle maker. Seriously, it's like a waffle-batter warzone in there." Kurt said quietly. "Come help, please."

"I'm coming." Blaine said, placing a kiss on Kurt's batter-splattered cheek. He glanced at Tony, who still looked worried. "Seriously, everything is fine."

Tony sighed, and swiped some of the batter from Kurt's sweater, flicking it onto Blaine. "If you say so, man."

* * *

Finn lay on his bed, counting the flecks of dirt his ceiling, wondering how exactly flecks of dirt got on the ceiling. He heard the door open, but he didn't bother looking up, assuming it was checks. The fact that the door closed a moment later, and no one said "checks" went completely over his head, and it wasn't until someone sat down on his bed that he realized he was no longer alone.

"Hi." Marcel said, smiling at him. Finn drew his legs back, slamming himself into a corner of his bed. Marcel giggled.

"Uh, uh, what do you want?" Finn asked, trying to keep himself as far away from Marcel as possible.

Marcel shrugged, and inched forward on the bed. "Lina told me why you're here." He said, licking his lips. "I wanted to talk to you." Finn realized he'd never heard him speak before. His voice was high and feminine, with a breathy timbre to it.

"Yeah, ok good. Let's talk out in the main room." He said, trying to stand up. Marcel stood up too, and took a step towards him. Finn sank back down on the bed.

"I want to talk in here." Marcel, inching back towards him.

"What about?" He asked, trying to remember how long ago his last check had been.

Marcel put his hand on his thigh, and licked his lips. "I thought maybe we could help each other out."

"In, um, what way?" Finn asked, already knowing in exactly what way he was talking about.

"I know what you want, and what I want is to give it to you." He whispered. Finn bit down his lip and kept his body completely still as Marcel climbed on top of him, afraid that touching him would give him the wrong idea.

"This is a b-bad idea, Marcel." He stammered. Marcel smiled coyly. "You _don't_ want this."

"I need this." Marcel whispered, leaning in to kiss him.

"Ok, no. That's enough." Finn said, putting his arms on Marcel's shoulders and forcing him off. "_You don't want this_." He repeated.

"Yes, I do." Marcel said, leaning in again. Finn shoved him back. "Please?"

Finn sighed. "Look, I get it ok, you're horny and the porn here sucks but this is so not what you need right now."

"Why not?" Marcel asked. Finn wasn't sure, but he thought he sounded angry.

"I don't know, but it feels super wrong and I'm pretty sure it would be bad for both of us." Finn said.

"Finn, Lina told me about what you did to your brother and how bad you feel, but you don't need to feel bad about this because I'm saying _yes_."

"No, no you're not." Finn muttered, thinking about Lina and how much he was going to kill her for this later. "It sounds like you are, but you're not because someone did something to you to make you this way, so it's not you saying yes, it's them making you say yes, see?"

Marcel bit his lip, frowning. "No one made me anything...this is just how I am."

"I don't think so." Finn said, placing a hand gently on Marcel's knee. "I think someone did something to you that made you think this is who are you are, and what you want. But it isn't."

"Yes, it is." Marcel said quietly, looking at Finn's hand on his knee. "They didn't make me like this. I was- I was like this before, that's why they picked me."

"Ok that's totally not true. You didn't do anything to make them- wait what do you mean they? Like, multiple people 'they'?"

Marcel leaned back against the wall, shrugging. "I think they were like some sort of club. I'm pretty sure I wasn't the first."

"Jesus christ, man." Finn said. "I mean, like oh my god. What happened?"

Marcel glanced at him sideways. "If I tell you, will you fuck me?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. He sounded oddly different now...Finn realized his voice had dropped an octave or two. He no longer sounded breathy or feminine.

"Um, no."

"No dice."

"Fine." Finn said, shrugging. "But if I were to have sex with you, you'd just feel like even more shit about yourself."

"Pretty sure that's not possible." Marcel snorted.

"It's always possible." Finn mumbled. "No matter how low you feel, there's always a lower. But you can get better, too. With like talking, and medication and shit."

Marcel shook his head. "I'm fucked for good." He smiled ruefully.

"I thought that too, when I first came here." He said. "Actually, I'm pretty sure everyone thinks that. But it's not true."

Marcel raised an eyebrow. "You're better?"

Finn shrugged. "I think the fact that we're not having sex right now sort of proves that." He grinned. "Look, I know how you feel, but it'll get better-"

Suddenly Marcel was on top of him, shoving his shoulders back against the wall and glaring angrily. "Fuck you, you don't know _shit_ about how I feel." He seethed. Finn could feel him reaching into his sweatpants. He could have stopped him, pushed him off easily, but he kept still. "You think because you fucked your brother, and had to suck off some orderly you're suddenly the big expert on this shit?" He growled, his hand between Finn's legs.

Finn took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice even. "I didn't say you could touch me." He said quietly. Marcel's face was an inch away from his, and he looked at him questioningly. "You know what that means you're doing, right?" He felt Marcel's grip on him slack and he continued. "They did this to you, but it's over now. Now you can either give in to what they did, or fight back."

Slowly, Marcel removed his hand and sank back. Finn sat up again, and put his hand on Marcel's shoulder. "Oh, my god..." He said, his eyes wide. "I am so sorry, Finn." He whispered.

"It's ok." Finn said, patting him reassuringly.

"No, it's not." He said, wiping his eyes. "I can't believe...oh god, I'm so fucked up." He said, putting his face in his hands.

"Yeah dude, you are." Finn said soothingly. "But I mean, so is everyone here. Doesn't mean you're gonna be fucked up forever."

Marcel sighed, and took his face out of his hands. "It feels like I will."

Finn shrugged. "Yeah, and you'll probably feel like that for a while. But eventually you'll start getting defucked up, and it'll feel like maybe one day things won't be so nuts."

His shoulders started to shake, and Finn put his arm a little farther around his shoulders. "I hate feeling like this, it's such fucking shit." He said, beginning to sob.

"Trust me, I get that." Finn consoled. "But seriously, I know it feels like fucking will make everything better, but it actually doesn't."

"I don't want to want it." He cried. Finn nodded.

"I know."

Marcel opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the door opened.

"Checks." Casey said. She froze when she saw Marcel and her eyes widened. Finn snatched his arm away. She looked back and forth from each of them, a look of panic on her face.

"We're just talking, I swear!" Finn said, holding his hands up.

Marcel nodded. "He didn't screw me, I promise." He said, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"Not even a little." Finn added.

Casey sighed. "Just...can you finish talking out in the main room please? Maybe that way I can keep my job?"

* * *

"You didn't tell Tony, about me, did you?" Kurt asked, as they stood in line at the Lima Bean on Monday.

Blaine shook his head. "It's none of his business, why would I?"

"Because he's your cousin, and I screwed up." Kurt muttered, adjusting the strap on his messenger bag.

Blaine slid his arm around his waist, offering a reassuring squeeze. "You didn't screw up. You had a panic attack. Not the same thing."

Kurt gave him a small smile, and they moved up in line.

"However, there is something else I wanted to talk to you about." Blaine said. He sounded nervous.

"Lay it on me."

"You're not going to like it." Blaine said sadly.

Kurt shrugged. "Who knows, you don't. Maybe I'll love it."

Blaine didn't look so sure. "Well, it's...Mercedes. I think you should consider...telling her."

"You're right, I don't like that." Kurt said, feeling a familiar panic seep up.

"I know you don't sweetie, but she's really worried." Blaine said, squeezing him tightly. "She can tell something's different."

"I can't. Blaine, I just can't." He whispered.

Blaine pressed his lips softly against his cheek. "Yes, you can. You didn't think you could sing in front of a large group of people, and you did that. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

Kurt hesitated. "I'll...think about it, ok?"

Blaine smiled. "That's all I ask."

"All I ask is you two stop your flirting and order some damn coffee already." The lady behind the counter snapped. Kurt hadn't even realized they'd gotten to the front of the line.

"Could you excuse us, we're having a moment here?" Blaine said cooly. The woman behind the counter looked like she was about to throttle them.

* * *

"She's going to look at me differently." Kurt said, biting his nails.

"Huh?" Blaine asked. "Who?"

"Mercedes." Kurt said, giving him a "duh" look.

"Kurt, that conversation was like two hours ago, you can't just expect me to instantly know who you're talking about." Blaine said, raising an eyebrow. Kurt shrugged. "She's not going to look at you differently. You're still the friend she's always loved, you've just been through something terrible and you're a little different. But the same person."

"Doesn't matter. She won't be able to look at me and not see a victim. I'll be Kurt-the-Victim." He muttered, chewing on his thumb.

"That's not what I see when I look at you." Blaine said, taking his hand out of his mouth and holding it tightly. "I see Kurt my boyfriend, whom I love very much and I see Kurt my friend who'll always be there for me, and who I'll always be there for. And underneath those people, I see Kurt the survivor, who can overcome anything, because he's the strongest person I've ever met." Blaine leaned forward and gave him a light kiss.

"Cheeseball." Kurt mumbled against Blaine's lips. He felt Blaine smile.

"You're going to be fine." Blaine reassured him, pulling away. "We'll tell her together, and it'll be better when she knows."

"Yeah, how?"

"She won't constantly be wondering about what happened, she can be someone you can turn too if you need to talk, and instead of just seeing the ways you've changed, she'll see the strength and courage I see every day."

"Oh, is that all." Kurt muttered.

"No, I'm sure there's a plethora of other benefits that I have yet to for see." Said Blaine, grinning.

"Ooh, big word. Plethora." Nick said, wandering over to their table with Jeff. "Exciting."

"We're not interrupting something, are we?" Jeff asked, hesitating before taking a seat. Nick had already sat down, and had grabbed one of Kurt's carrot slices. "You guys have your 'serious talk' faces on."

"You just missed the serious talk, we're done now." Blaine said, gesturing to Jeff to take a seat.

"Cool." Nick said, trying to grab a celery stick now too. Kurt grabbed them away, and Nick pouted.

"It's good to see you guys are good." Nick said, when Kurt sighed and handed the container with the celery in it back to him. "You were all bad on Friday."

"Well, I brought him flowers and embarrassed the crap out of myself in front of his family as penance so..." Kurt said, shrugging.

"Oh, they loved you." Blaine said, beaming at him.

"They would have loved an elastic band orchestra." Kurt said, rolling his eyes.

"Hey," Nick protested. "Those are awesome."

* * *

"What about the guy by the TV?" Marcel asked, moving his knees up to his chest. They were sitting on the floor in the main room, playing go fish. Paige kept cheating, looking to see what cards each of them had.

"Michael?" Finn asked, cringing a little. Marcel nodded. "What about him?"

"Is he gay?"

Finn laughed. "He's spent the last 6 months calling me a faggot, so no, I don't think so."

He shrugged. "Never know...could be latent."

Finn furrowed his brow, trying to remember the meaning of the word latent. He was sure he knew it at some point.

"It means his secret gay-being powers have yet to be activated." Paige said, peeking at his cards. Finn smiled.

"Exactly." Marcel said, organizing the matches he'd acquired. "He could have a desire to fuck guys that's so far gone untapped."

"And you intend to tap it?" Finn asked. Paige giggled.

Marcel shrugged. "I don't know...he's cute. He's quiet. I like that."

"He doesn't smell like feet so much anymore." Paige said with a shrug. "And it's been a while since he's pinched me."

Marcel looked over at him, a small smile on his lips.

"Well, good luck with that." Finn said, shuffling his cards in with the deck and taking new ones. Paige pouted.

* * *

**A/N: Yay nothing horrible happened!**


	25. Chapter 23

Chapter 23:

Finn stared, a little confused, at Marcel and Michael sitting together on the couch. Their sitting together wasn't the odd part; they'd been sitting together for a week now (and Finn was pretty sure Marcel was slowly closing the distance between them, inching closer each day). The part that confused him was why exactly Paige was crouching behind the couch, appearing to be listening attentively despite the fact that neither of them were speaking.

Shaking his head, Finn made his way over to the couch and sat down on the arm next to Marcel. "Whatcha guys watching?" He asked pleasantly.

"Horror show." Michael said.

Marcel laughed. "It's called 'Toddler's in Tiara's'." He said. Finn noticed that he was using his higher, more feminine voice again. "It's amazing."

"It's trash. I can't believe these people are allowed to exist." Michael grumbled.

"You know you could always turn the channel, right?" Finn said.

"Marcel's watching." Michael said with a shrug.

Marcel beamed. "You can change it, if you want." He said, batting his eyelashes. Finn looked down behind the couch, and saw Paige biting down on fist excitedly. He rolled his eyes.

"Well, it's been nice talking to you guys." Finn said, gesturing for Paige to follow him.

She crawled away from the couch slowly, and began walking when she was about half way across the room.

"Paige, what the hell?" He asked, leading her over to a table and sitting down. "What are you doing?"

"Spying, _duh._" She said, giving him a look.

"Why? And they're hardly even speaking, what's to spy on?"

She grinned. "They were talking before and it was the weirdest thing. Finn, Micheal's _smart_. Like he knows shit. About books. He reads _books_."

Finn furrowed his brow. "I've never seen him with a book."

"He says he reads at night. He's read Catcher in the Rye 17 times." She said, nodding. "And that's Marcel's most favourite book ever. They were talking about it, and how super cool it is and it's literary value and how it's still relevant and all this stuff. And they're _so cute together!_" She squealed.

"Paige, I think you're forgetting that Michael. Isn't. Gay." He said, speaking very slowly. She rolled her eyes at his patronizing tone. "And even if he was, Marcel is only interested in him for sex. There's nothing _adorable _about that."

Paige shook her head. "It's so not about that, Finn! You just need to watch- or, listen- to them together and you'll see, Michael's so much nicer to him than he's ever been to _anyone _here. And Marcel went 30 whole minutes with out mentioning sex and stuff _once._" She said, raising her eyebrows impressively.

That was actually a pretty big deal- sex tended to one of the only things Marcel ever talked about with them. He'd never mentioned books at all.

"He's still not gay_._"

"How do you know?" Paige narrowed her eyes. "Have you ever asked him?"

Finn stared at her. "No, but he's spent the last 6 months _calling me a fag!_"

She shrugged. "Maybe that was a cover. Or you know, maybe he's just crazy. Mental asylum, you know." She said, gesturing around her. "Or maybe he's just like a two or three and is just realizing it now."

"A what?"

"A two or a three. Like on the Kinsey scale." She explained.

"On the what?"

"It's a scale that measures your levels of gayness or not gayness. I think you're probably a one. Someone bisexual would be like a three."

"There's a scale? How does that make sense? Isn't there either just like gay or straight?" He asked. "Or bisexual." He added as an afterthought.

Paige rolled her eyes. "Finny, you of all people should know that it doesn't work like that. People can't be divided into apples and bananas. Sometimes you're a strawberry. I think most people are strawberries, actually. But the world makes it seem like everyone else is an apple or banana, so the strawberries assume they are too."

"But they're strawberries?"

She nodded.

"Paige, I get what you're saying but I don't think it makes any sense." He said slowly.

"Why not?" She asked, narrowing her eyes again.

"Because a strawberry isn't half way between an apple and banana."

She sighed. "Awesome way to miss the point."

* * *

It was lunch time, and Kurt was putting his binders from the first half of the day into his locker when Blaine came up to him, with a tragically pained looked on his face.

"You ok?" Kurt asked, pausing with his hand on his science text book.

"Kurt, I- I have some bad news." Blaine said, his face screwed up into a grimace. Kurt raised an eyebrow, slowly with drawing his hand from his locker. "I- I won't be at lunch today!" He cried, biting down on his fist, as though the emotion behind his words was too much to handle.

Kurt shook his head. "That's not nice you know. For about a millisecond, I was actually worried."

"I know, my darling, it pains my heart too!" He continued, ignoring Kurt's apathy. Blaine reached out and grabbed him, pulling him into his arms and clutching him tightly against his chest. Kurt laughed. "But rest assured, we will find some way to carry on."

"You're a bit nutty, you know that right?" Kurt said, chuckling a little as Blaine released him and grinned. "Why won't you be at lunch?"

Blaine shrugged. "Tony's taking me out...he's trying to _bond._" He said, rolling his eyes.

"Probably trying to save you from your nutcase boyfriend." Kurt mumbled.

"Probably." Blaine agreed. Kurt glared at him and Blaine grinned and wrapped his arms around him. "Hey, remember the whole 'things are going to be different now, I promise?' conversation we had a few days ago?" Kurt nodded. "Was that not true?"

"Of course it was!" Kurt said instantly. Blaine was pining his arms to his sides with his hug, and Kurt wiggled them out and wrapped them around his neck. "I love you and I want to keep you. And preferably, keep you sane."

Blaine grinned and kissed him on the nose. "Then he's got nothing to save me from."

"He doesn't know that."

"I will tell him, and he will know." Blaine said firmly. He looked at his watch. "I gotta go, break the news to Jeff and Nick for me will ya?"

"Alright, but it's going to crush their little warbling hearts." He said, shrugging.

Blaine grinned. "'Warbling Heart.' I like that. It can be a follow up to 'Rambling Man.'" Kurt smiled and kissed Blaine good-bye, and he turned and left.

Kurt smiled after him for a moment, and put his book bag in his locker.

"You're disgusting, you know that right?" A voice to his left sneered.

Kurt stiffened. "What do you want, Jake?" He asked cooly. He looked around, and saw that while the hallway wasn't exactly crowded there were a few other guys hanging around at their lockers. Jake couldn't do anything but sneer.

"I don't want anything. Except maybe you to stop being such a cock-sucker." He said with a wide smile.

"I don't see how that's any of your business, since it's not _your _cock I'm sucking." Kurt replied. He cringed inwardly the moment the words were out of his mouth, but it was too late now. O_h well. _

Kurt turned to walk away, but Jake called after him.

"Guess mines the only one, huh?"

He stopped and turned back around. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?" He snapped.

Jake kept the wide grin on his face, his eyes glinting as he spoke. "Exactly what it sounded like. Don't think we don't all know what a slut you are." He snickered to himself. "Well, 'cept Anderson."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He said, trying to keep his voice even. "I'm not a slut."

Jake laughed. "Right. That's why you practically tried to jump my bones in the washroom? That's why I heard someone saw you sucking a guy off behind a dumpster a few weeks back?" Kurt's eyes went wide. He was doing _what _behind a dumpster? "And what, do you think we don't hear the things you say? 'God, why doesn't he just ask me to bend over before he reams me next time?'" Jake said in a high voice.

Kurt cringed, visibly this time. He'd said last week after the science teacher had chewed him out for not wearing his goggles during an experiment.

"You've got a mouth on you, boy." Jake snickered again. "A filthy, cock-sucking mouth."

"S-shut up."

Kurt looked around, to the voice who'd spoken (stammered quietly) from behind Jake. He was surprised to find the new/old kid, whose name he'd learned was George Zimmerman, standing there with a pink face and clenched fists.

"Excuse me?" Jake asked, looking extremely surprised to hear George speak. Personally, Kurt was surprised that George _could _speak.

"You're saying sh-shit about Kurt. Untrue shit." George said, sounding marginally more sure of himself. "Stop."

"How do youknow it's untrue? He looks like a cock-sucker to me." Jack smiled again, barring his teeth menacingly.

"And you look like a brain-dead limp-dicked imbecile who talks trash about others because their Mommy didn't hug them enough when they were a kid." George spewed. "But I'm sure you're just an asshole."

Jake glared at him. "Fuck you, Zimmerman."

"Brilliant comeback." Kurt drawled, feeling like he should help George in some way. "Do you write your own material?"

Jake just sneered. "Whatever, you two can have fun sucking each others dicks, I'm outta here."

"Careful Jake." George cautioned, speaking to Jakes retreating figure. "If you k-keep talking about sucking dicks so much, people are going to get the wrong idea."

Jake held up the middle finger as he turned the corner and disappeared.

"Oh, _god_." George muttered, sinking to the floor. "Oh god, oh god..."

"Are you alright?" Kurt asked, kneeling beside him. He didn't know _why _George had defended him like that, but he was damn grateful.

George shook his head. "I've never- I've never done _anything _like that before. Never ever ever." He rubbed his temples, his face flushed pink. "I think I may vomit."

"You'll be fine." Kurt said, patting him twice on the shoulder. "That was amazing, seriously."

George turned his head a little, glancing at Kurt's hand on his shoulder. "You wouldn't happen to feel like doing that 11 more times, would you?"

"What?"

"Nothing. Never mind." He said quickly.

Kurt stood up and offered his hand to George, who took it after a moment of wary staring. "Do you want to come have lunch with me and my friends? I mean, you sort of heroically defended me- I could buy you some french fries!"

George gave a nervous twitch, and shifted around uncomfortably. "Uh, actually, Kurt well- I need to sort of talk to you. About something."

Kurt blinked at him. "About what?"

George bit his lip, and his hand twitched a little as he went to put it on Kurt's back. "Walk with me."

* * *

"I think you're jealous." Paige said firmly, jumping her knight over Finn's queen. They couldn't find the checkers set, but neither of them knew or cared how to play chess.

"Of _what?_" Finn sputtered, unsure if he wanted to sneer or sound surprised. The effect was oddly garbled. He glanced behind Paige towards Micheal and Marcel on the couch. He wondered if Michael realized that Marcel was slowly inching closer to him ever commercial break. They were barely 10 inches apart now.

"You _know _what, Finn-head." She said, rolling her eyes painfully.

"I'm not jealous of Micheal." He scoffed, jumping over two of Paige's pawns.

"How do you know?" She asked, trying to grab one of her pieces back from him. He held it out of her reach.

"I know because they're are like 50 reasons _not _to be. And none like to...be." He muttered. "First of all I am not gay. You seem to forget that."

"I do, sometimes. But then Lina walks by and I think about how you porked her and I remember. " She quipped. Finn sighed. He had a feeling he was going to be paying for that for the endurance of their friendship.

"Sorry sorry..." Finn mumbled. "But I'm not jealous. Marcel came to me first, remember? And besides, there's nothing actually going on between-"

Finn stared with an open mouth as Michael reached over and put his arm around Marcel, pulling him closer and closing the small gap between them. He kept one arm around his shoulders and Marcel leaned against him, resting his head on his shoulder.

"What?" Paige asked, turning to see what he was gaping at. She gave an ear-popping squeal of excitement when she saw Marcel and Michael cuddling on the couch. "I KNEW IT!" She burst out, jumping out of her chair.

Michael and Marcel turned and looked at her, and she squealed happily again and did a little dance. Marcel blushed and gave a small, coy smile before turning back around and resuming snuggling against Michael. Michael just smirked and kissed Marcel on the top of his head.

Finn continued to gape.

* * *

"You haven't heard any rumours about where I've been for the past year, have you?" George asked, as they walked around the grounds. Kurt had never really explored the outside of Dalton, but he was finding it was actually quite pretty. He and Blaine should consider have lunch outside sometime.

"Kurt?"

Kurt looked away. He had definitely heard rumours about where George had been, a range of them. A few people insisted he was in jail, while he'd heard one boy swear he'd run away to New York and was living on the streets as a prostitute. But there was one rumour he'd heard so consistently, he had a hard time not believing it. "They say...they say you were in a mental asylum." He whispered, forcing himself to make eye-contact.

George gave him a smile, nervous smile. "Unless you talk to Cale Block, who says I was a gigolo." George stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked away. "But the mental asylum thing...that's true."

Kurt didn't say anything, because he really had no idea what the hell you were supposed to say when someone tells you something like that.

"Anyways...the thing I needed to talk to you about involves someone I met while I was there." He stopped walking and looked at him. Kurt stopped to, feeling a dull pounding in his chest. Or was it in his head?

"Who?" Kurt asked in a quiet, hoarse voice. He already knew, but he couldn't believe it.

George looked at him, his eyes full of meaning that Kurt did _not _want to understand. "Finn. I...I know Finn."

Kurt opened his mouth, and the sound which came out surprised him. He laughed. It wasn't funny, but for some reason, he laughed. He sat down on a pretty metal bench behind George, laughing and trying to breathe. "Holy fucking shit..."

George sat down quietly next to him, and reached out to put his hand on his back. His hand stopped, hesitating halfway there before finally settling on his shoulder.

"What do you know?" He asked finally, turning his head a little to look at George.

"Everything." George said simply. The look in his eyes told him it was true.

Suddenly, he wanted to vomit. "Oh god."

"I recognized you from, um a picture that P- Finn's friend drew. Of you." He said quietly. Kurt furrowed his brow. Finn had _friends? _"I guess I should have recognized the Dalton uniform but the drawing was black and white and only from your shoulders up..."

"How did someone draw in a mental institution draw a picture of me?" Kurt asked, running his fingers through his hair.

"Uh, I think she got the picture from Finn's Mom." George said. "She was kind of obsessed with you for a little, it was cute." He smiled fondly. "She kept asking him questions, about who are were and what you were into...it hurt him, to talk about you like that, but I think she wanted to make you seem more real to him. More than just someone he'd hurt, a real whole person. That's why she made the drawing too...it was really good. Really real...he freaked out when he saw it."

"Why?"

George shrugged. "I don't know. But something about it really messed with his head. After that he did something really stupid, and it really upset Paige." Kurt could only assume that "Paige" was the girl that was friends with Finn. He was beginning to think George had a thing for her, just from the way he said her name and smiled. "She went into sort of a funk... but Finn fixed it and they both got a lot better after that."

He shook his head. "I still don't understand the part where Finn has a friend."

George looked away uncomfortably. "He's my friend, too..."

Kurt gaped at him. "How? How could you be friends with that?"

"He's...I don't know. He's not a bad guy, anymore. I guess." George cast his eyes downward. "I was there when he first came, so I know how terrible the person you knew was. He was angry, and brutal and kind of scary...he'd look at me, and sometimes it was like he wasn't really there." George shuddered. "But that's not who he is anymore. He's different."

Kurt snorted. "Oh, does he feel bad about what he did?"

George turned and looked at him sadly. "I've never met anyone who hated themselves as much as Finn Hudson. If it makes you feel better."

He snorted again. "Yes, loads better. Finn hates himself, and somehow that makes me un-raped." George looked away from him again, and Kurt felt an annoying regret creep into his stomach. "Sorry, George...I don't mean to be so...bitchy." He sighed. "I'm kind of a mess, I guess."

"You're not." George said, focusing on a tree off in the distance as he spoke. Kurt could see the pink sneaking back into his cheeks. "You're amazing."

He blinked. "I'm _what?_" He asked, unable to believe he'd heard him right.

George shifted his body so he was facing him again, and looked him in the eye. His face was bright pink now, and he looked embarrassed but determined. "You're amazing." He repeated. "I know, _everything _that Finn did to you, and I saw first hand what doing it did to Finn. Now, I never expected to meet you but if I had, I would have expected to meet a broken shell of a person. Someone beaten down. But...you're not. I've seen you laughing with your friends, with your _boyfriend_...I've seen you going to classes and living your life and knowing what happened to you...it all seems so amazing." He smiled a little, looking even more embarrassed. "I think you might be my hero."

"What's amazing about being a victim?" Kurt asked quietly, still feeling slightly unreal. He couldn't believe that someone who knew what had happened to him, knew the details of it all, could look at him with anything but pity.

"That's the thing, Kurt." George said earnestly. "I would have expected to meet a victim, but your not one." Kurt looked up, into George's eyes. "You're a survivor."

* * *

That night, Finn woke up to something he had never woken up to before. In any other situation, this would have been a lovely way to be awoken. But in a mental institution, it's never a good thing to wake up to someone jerking you off.

Finn opened his mouth to groan, or moan or make some sort of "I am displeased" noise, but before he could, a hand was snapped over his mouth.

"What the fuck, man?" Finn tried to say, but it was muffled by Marcel's hand. His eyes were still adjusting to the dark, and he could feel Marcel's ragged breath on his cheek, and feel his tear drops splashing against him before he could see him.

"How could you do it, Finn?" Marcel asked, his voice dark and broken. Finn wracked his brain for what he'd done, but he came up with nothing. He tried to tell Marcel he didn't know what he was talking about, but Marcel began pumping his hand faster and the words got lost in his throat.

He groaned, struggling to think. There was a whisper of fog beginning to trickle in and he fought against it. "Marcel- ah god, shit man you gotta stop." He managed. Marcel just gripped him harder and he moaned, letting his head fall back against his pillow.

"How could you do that to him, Finn?" Marcel hissed.

"No idea what you're t-talkin' a-about." Finn stammered, the fog growing thicker. "Please, Marcel...please." Marcel was ignoring him, and a dense voice in his head told him to just give up. Let it happen. It wasn't like _he _was doing anything wrong. _Marcel _was doing this, of his own accord, _to him_. He'd tried to stop him...no reason to feel bad. He moaned, as the fog coaxed him into relaxing.

"How could you do that _me?_" Marcel asked, his voice breaking further.

Somewhere behind the fog, Finn thought he understood what Marcel meant now. How could he have done that to _Kurt_? How could he have done the same thing to Kurt that had been done to him? He couldn't answer, not right now. Something inside of him was aching, wanting more than just Marcel's hand.

Finn's fingers twitched, and his eyes snapped to Marcel's head...and his mouth. It was pulsing oddly as Marcel continued to breath angrily, his lips red and wet. It would be so easy, just to push his head down, and get that wet red mouth around his-

Another tear drop hit him in his eye, and he jerked himself out of his trance. No, no no. He was _not _going to do this, not again. He wasn't going to let Marcel do this to himself, either.. He took a hand and dug his nails into his own arm, the pain sending him back from whatever precipice he'd been teetering on. He made himself think of the mail-man he'd once hit with his car, remembering the sick crushing sound the man's body had made as he'd hit the glass. He calmed down. "M-marcel, you need to stop _now_." He said, not sounding as firm as he would have liked, but firm enough. "Don't d-do this to yourself."

Marcel stopped the pumping motions, and just held him tightly. Very tightly. Finn groaned again, suddenly in a lot of pain. It was better though, he'd take the pain. "How can I do anything when _they _already did this to me? When _you _did it?"

"I'm s-sorry." He groaned, the fog in his brain being replaced by bright lights and spots in front of his eyes. Marcel was squeezing his hand tightly around the base of his dick, and it hurt like a motherfucker.

"I w-was fucked up. They were fucked up. But _this _i-is fucked up _too. Ah!_" He wriggled a little, the pain so bad he thought he was actually going to cry. _"Please!" _

"No!" Marcel whispered angrily, more tear drops falling from his eyes onto Finn's face. "You _don't get to say please._"

Desperate for relief now, Finn pulled at any string he could think of. _"What about Michael, Marcel?" _He gasped, curling up in agony. _"_W-what would h-he think a-aa-bout this?_"_

Finally, so fucking finally, Marcel made a terrified whimpering sound and let go oh thank fuck. Finn took a deep breath as Marcel withdrew his hand, crumpling back on his bed.

"Jesus, man..." Finn muttered, sitting up and looking at Marcel in the dark.

"Just...tell me how you could do it?" Marcel asked, his knees hugged tightly to his chest. "I need to know."

Finn sighed. "I can't. Honestly, I don't know. There was something in my head, like a fog or shit, something that made it seem ok. Like it wasn't real. Like, his screams and cries were all a dream."

Marcel snorted. "Some fucking dream." He put his head in his hands and began to sob. Finn didn't dare put his arm around him.

"Marcel, what happened?" He asked, trying to adjust himself in a way that didn't throb like a bitch. "You were fine before."

"Nothing happened." He said bitterly. "I just can't take feeling like this anymore." He put his hand to his heart, clutching at his t-shirt. "It's just- _all the fucking time._" He sobbed. "It's _clawing _and burning and I just feel so- so- so-"

"Horny?" Finn supplied. Evidently, this was the wrong thing to say, and Marcel burst back into tears.

"It's d-d-disgusting!" Marcel moaned, his shoulder shaking angrily. "I w-want it to go _away_. _Now._"

"I get that." Finn said quietly, hoping Marcel didn't freak out at him like last time. Instead he just turned and looked at him. "When I first got here, I spent hours in my room every day just jerking off and crying. It was awful. I would think about Kurt and _hate myself so much _for wanting him the way I did, even when I knew how wrong and disgusting it was. I felt like shit, like a pervert- which granted, I was. But you're not. I made myself that way, with my own fucking hate and anger and shit. You had this done to you. I know you feel disgusting, but you know you're not. And it'll get better." Probably.

"_How?" _

How the fuck was he supposed to know? "Um, well Paige sort of made it impossible for me to jerk off and think about Kurt anymore and I got sort of really frustrated, so I screwed Lina and then Paige and I made sort of a pact to get better- that and they upped my medication. So I have no idea, because I really don't suggest doing any of that." He thought. "What are you doing in therapy?"

Marcel shrugged. "Just talking about shit. I'm on some medication but it's not gonna work for a while- they keep talking about re-conditioning and shit. No idea."

"Have you, um...talked to Micheal, maybe?" He suggested.

Marcel shook his head. "I don't want to." He put his head against his knees. "It'll just make him realize what trash I am sooner. Besides, I don't want to push it."

"Push what?"

"Him. He's never been into a guy before, I don't want to push it." Marcel laughed a little to himself. "He says he was never into a girl either though, so who knows?"

"I think you should talk to him..." Finn said slowly. He wasn't actually sure it was a good idea, but if it stopped Marcel from trying to convince him to rape him again, it seemed like it would be worth it. "You're not trash, not even a little. I should know, being trash myself. And if he's never been into a guy before, you've got to be really special, huh?" Marcel snorted, but it wasn't as bitter as before. He took that as a good sign. "Talk to him. Maybe- maybe he can help you. That's got to be better than me doing something. I mean, at least you like him, right?"

Marcel lifted his head up and looked at him. "I like him. He's- I've never." Marcel smiled, and even though it was dark, Finn would have bet money that he was blushing. "I've never met anyone who makes me feel like he does."

Finn smiled, and put his hand on Marcel's shoulder. "I think he'll help you."

Marcel frowned. "I don't see how he could. I only have 5 minute checks, that's hardly enough time to do anything."

Finn opened his mouth to respond, when an awful realization hit him. "You only have 5 minute checks?" He asked frantically. He'd been in here for at least 10 minutes. "Oh, fuck-" He said, just as his door burst open and Sheila, and the orderly who'd been hired to replace Gorey, Robbie, burst in. They flipped the light on, and Robbie sighed in relief when he saw Marcel sitting there.

"He's in here." Sheila called out to the hallway, and Casey poked her head in.

"I told you he would be." Casey said, smiling proudly. Sheila shot her a glare, and Casey pulled her head out, and darted away.

"What the fuck, Marcel?" Sheila growled, glaring at him.

"I-I'm sorry." Marcel whimpered, tears tricking down his cheeks again. Now that the light was on, Finn could see how red his eyes were. "I j-j-just can't take it anymore." He hiccuped pathetically, and Sheila seemed to soften, just a little.

She sighed. "I know. I'm sorry you feel like this Marcel, and if I could make it better I would, but this isn't the answer." She said, gesturing to Finn. She turned to Robbie and instructed him to take Marcel back to his room.

Robbie nodded, and he led Marcel out, patting him soothingly on the back.

Sheila sat down on Finn's bed, looking very tired. "Thank you, Finn, for not hurting him." She said, and Finn blinked in surprise. "I know it must have been difficult." She unclipped her walkie-talkie from her belt, and handed it to him. "If he somehow manages to sneak back in here tonight, call us. Tomorrow we'll have you moved to a room with a lock, ok?" She said, standing up. "I know you think it's not a big deal, but it's not ok for him to touch you like that, alright?"

Finn nodded, and Sheila closed the door and turned off the light. He lay back down, thinking that Sheila was wrong- he deserved to have everything that he'd in inflicted on Kurt done back to him 10 times over. But he appreciated the sentiment, just the same.


	26. Chapter 24

Chapter 24:

Kurt sat on Blaine's couch, with Blaine lying with his head in his lap, reading a book. Kurt absently ran his fingers through his boyfriend's hair, deep in thought. He'd been at Blaine's house for an hour now, but he still hadn't told him what had happened earlier in that day. With Jake, and George.

He was still processing it himself, actually. It was all so unreal.

At least he knew why George had been staring at him for the last god knows how long. He wanted to tell Blaine, talk to him about everything that had happened but for some reason, he just didn't know how to bring it up.

"So, um, what are you reading?" He asked, wondering what the odds of George naturally appearing in their conversation would be.

"It's called 'Heart of Darkness'." Blaine said, putting the book down on his, keeping it open to his page. He looked up at Kurt and grinned. "It's about a guy who's obsessed with a man named Kurtz.*"

Kurt smiled back, running his fingers tenderly across Blaine's forehead. "Blaine...if you have something you want to talk about, but don't really know how to bring it up, what do you say?"

"Well, probably something like that, actually." Blaine said, sitting up slowly. "What's on your mind?"

Kurt decided to just skip right to it. "You know how everyone says that George was in a mental asylum this year?" Blaine nodded. "Well, I spoke to him and it turns out that's true. And when he was in that asylum-" He broke off and looked at Blaine for reassurance (about what, he wasn't sure). Whatever it was, he found it in Blaine's concerned hazel eyes. Kurt took a deep breath. "He met Finn."

"Oh. Wow." Blaine said, looking startled. Maybe he should have eased him into it more. Or, at all. "Thats. Wow."

"Yeah. I know."

* * *

They were sitting in the hallway outside of the solitary rooms. Paige was kneeling next to Finn, the only way she was at the right height to wrap her arms over one of his broad shoulders as he sobbed into his hands.

"I wanted to-" he wept, looking thoroughly disgusted with himself. "I wanted to _so badly_."

"But you _didn't_." She reminded him. He shook his head, as if that hardly mattered. She sighed inwardly, never able to understand why Finn could never just look on the _bright_ side of things.

No, that wasn't true. She did understand, half the time. The half of the time when there was no bright side. When it was all in the dark and everything was nothing.

But the other half of the time, it just didn't seem to make _sense_ to focus on the bad stuff, because the good stuff was much gooder. Why wouldn't you want to focus on the gooder, instead of the badder?

Heh. Badder. Sounds like batter.

She hugged Finn tightly, waiting for a break in his sobs where she could remind him how super amazing he was. He wouldn't believe her, he never did, but she thought he liked to hear her say it anyways.

His tears slowed, eventually, and she took his large hands in her own small ones. "Finn, he was in your bed with his hands-" She blushed a little, and Finn snorted. "Well, you know. So he's in your bed, and he's such a _fox-_" Finn shot her his patented "God Dammit, Paige, I'm not freaking Gay!" look, and she rolled her eyes.

"Sorry, but he is. Anyways, considering all your issues I think that given the circumstances, _wanting _is fairly understandable."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He asked, his eyes wide. "How could you say that was _understandable? _It was _disgusting! _I'm disgusting. A fucking disgusting ra-"

"I said 'given the circumstances'!" She bristled, cutting him off before he could get into full on self-deprication mode. "And it's not _right_ or _good_, of course. But _given your circumstances_ I can _understand your feelings!_" She shook his shoulders a little as she spoke, trying to force it into his numb-skulled head that she was not saying his creepy need for icky sex was OK, because- just no. So much no. "Do you see what I am shaking?" she asked, giving him an extra shake.

"No." He said stubbornly. She let go of his shoulders, knowing that his "no" was really angry-person code for "Yeah, yeah, I got it..."

"Good." She said cheerfully, wrapping her arms back around him. Almost on cue, he burst back into tears and buried his head against her shoulder. She could feel his cold tears soaking into her t-shirt, and a cold spot seemed to spread across her chest as well. She hated seeing Finn like this, it was heart-breaking. She hated not being able to make it all better, too. She was pretty sure she'd pay any crazy ridiculous amount of money, or give up anything she had if she could somehow just make it all better for Her Finn.

Occasionally when she was in a rare, introspective mood (rare because once she entered her own mind, there was guarantee she could come back out. So it was better just to avoid that place) it would occur to her that having such an attactchment to someone who was technically a mentally-diseased rapist was probably unhealthy. In all logical ways, Finn was Evil. Rapists were Evil. Finn was a Rapist.

So it was probably a good thing that she'd never really given much credit to logic.

Logic, and you know...the law, might say he was...but he didn't seem evil. He didn't feel evil.

That was good enough for her.

Even though she knew what he'd done, and what he'd wanted just last night to do again, something in her couldn't believe that Her Finn was evil. No one evil would be crying like this on her shoulder, begging her to tell him how terrible and awful he was. Begging her to have him killed, so he couldn't hurt anyone else.

"You're not _going _to hurt anyone else, don't you understand Finny?" She said soothingly, rubbing him on the back as he shook against her. "You _didn't _hurt Marcel. That's what's important. You might have _wanted _to but you didn't. And you won't."

"You don't know that." He muttered, trying to wipe the still-pouting tears from, his eyes.

"No, but I believe it." She said, placing a small kiss on his forehead. "I believe in you, Finny, 'cause I loves you."

He snorted again. "You love a sicko."

She decided to use her discretion, and not make any of the million _Planet Terror* _references that had just popped into her mind.

"No, I love a strong, sweet guy who used to be a sicko, and is making awesome progress towards recovering. And everyday I know him, there's less and less sicko, and more and more Finn."

"I don't want to be a sicko anymore. I want to be me again." He whispered.

Paige nodded. "You will be, Finny. Real soon."

* * *

"I still don't understand how he could say that." Kurt said quietly, leaning back against Blaine on the couch. They'd practically reversed positions now, although instead of having his head in his lap, Kurt was sitting between Blaine's legs, lying against his chest. Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist. "How could I be anyone's _hero?_"

"Easily. You've survived something soul-disturbingly awful, and come out stronger on the other end. Everyday you live with what happened to you, but you're not letting it stop you from being amazing. Which you are, by the way. Amazing." Blaine said simply, kissing Kurt on the ear and squeezing him. "And you're also _my _hero."

"Well, I certainly am amazing." Kurt said cheekily. However, he was still quiet for a few moments, considering what Blaine said.

Blaine waited patiently for Kurt to speak again, an odd feeling of anticipation settling on his shoulders. He didn't know why, there wasn't really anything in Kurt's demeanour to suggest that he was going to say, or do something important. But still.

He waited.

When Kurt spoke again it was in a quiet, timid voice, almost like that of a child's.

"...I'm ready to tell Mercedes."

Blaine sucked his breath in, worried that having a too-enthusiastic reaction would freak Kurt out. "That's amazing, Kurt." He said, his tone the perfect combination of warmth and pride. "I really think it's the right thing to do. You miss her, I know you do."

Kurt nodded slowly. "I definitely miss her. I've just been worried that once she knew...she wouldn't see me anymore. She'd just see what happened to me." Kurt sighed, and Blaine caressed Kurt's cheek a little, not wanting to interrupt him. "But I have to face the fact that what happened _is _a part of me. I can't hide that from Mercedes, obviously she could tell something was wrong. But it's not me. What happened isn't me." Kurt said, a determined ring in his voice, as though he was still trying to convince himself that it was true.

"No, it's not." Blaine confirmed. Kurt tilted his head back, and smiled at Blaine. Blaine leaned down, craning his neck to place a light, almost upside down kiss on Kurt's lips. "You're stronger than what happened to you." He whispered.

* * *

Paige was in some kind of artistic 7th heaven, sitting in a corner of the room nearing the TV, sketching Marcel and Michael with an excited fervour. She'd started when they were sitting up, cuddling quietly while watching TV, and was still drawing over an hour later when Michael was lying across the couch with his feet in Marcel's lap. Marcel had a sharpie with him, and was doodling on the cuffs of Michael's jeans.

Finn had been watching her for a while, her odd fascination with them making him feel somehow better.

However, she'd been drawing them ever since they'd left the hallway by the solitary rooms, and although Finn was fine with sitting quietly beside her as she drew, just waiting for the pit in his stomach to calmly disappear, eventually he had needed to eat.

When he'd gotten back, bringing along a few pop tarts for Paige (if she'd ever put the pad down) her subjects had once again switched positions; Michael was lying down on the couch and Marcel was lying on top of him, his head against Michael's chest. As Finn approached, he could see that Marcel was fast asleep.

He felt better now, considerably, and decided that now was a good time to get something that had been really bugging him off his chest.

Going around to the front of the couch, Finn knelt in front of Michael.

"So, who's the faggot _now?_" He asked, grinning. Not particularly mature, sure...but after 6 months of being called a fag by a guy who was now cradling another dude in their arms, maturity suddenly seemed like a non-issue.

"Still you." Michael said lightly, stroking Marcel's hair.

Finn sighed, shaking his head. "Just like- I don't know. Can you tell me maybe how this happened?" He asked, gesturing to Marcel and him. "I mean, he's been here two weeks. What can two weeks change?"

Micheal shrugged as much as he could with Marcel asleep on him. Marcel yawned a little, shifting around a little turning his face away. Michael grinned as though it was the most adorable thing in the world.

"Everything, I guess. Everything's changing now. The last two weeks...the next two weeks. It's a lot of time for things to happen." He smiled, and tilted his head back on the couch.

"Very poetic. Meaningless though." Finn said, raising an eyebrow.

"The most poetic things usually are." Michael said, grinning. Finn rolled his eyes.

"I've spent 6 months watching you do nothing but stare at the TV, grunting 3 word responses every now and then. Cut the bullshit."

Michael sighed. "I just- I've never liked anyone before." He said slowly. "Girls are fucking bitches, guys are assholes. I never wanted anything to do with any of them." He wrapped his arms over Marcel, smiling to himself. "He's different. Special, you know?"

Finn shook his head. "No, not really."

Michael didn't respond, he just kept stroking Marcel's hair, letting his fingers trail down his neck and over his back.

"You should know though," Finn said, keeping his voice steady. He didn't really _want _to tell Michael, somehow it felt like he was ratting Marcel out...but Michael needed to know what was happening with Marcel. Especially if he was going to help him through it. "He came to me, last night."

"I know. He told me." Michael said, sounding fairly emotionless.

"Uh, what did he tell you exactly?"

"He tried to jerk you off." Michael said flatly. He turned to look at him, a funny expression on his face. "Thank you, for stopping him. And for not hurting him. I know it must have been hard."

Finn blinked in surprise, realizing that the odd expression on his face was _gratitude. _"It was. Hard, I mean. But you know, I couldn't do that again."

Michael nodded, turning back to the sleeping boy on his chest. "Thank you." He repeated.

"You're welcome."

Michael was quiet for a moment, before glancing at Finn again. "So are we just gonna let that sit there?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What?"

Michael grinned. "'It was hard.'" He said, snickering a little.

Finn rolled his eyes.

Marcel gave another small yawn, changing positions on Michael's chest again. He moved his arm up next to his face, turning back to face Finn again. Michael trailed his fingers over Marcel's arm, lingering over his wrist, which was a dull red colour. Finn furrowed his brow, looking closely at Marcel's wrist and wondering what had happened to it. There were no cuts on it, just more of a raw red band going around, as though the skin there had been rubbed sore.

He glanced up at Michael, and saw that was also looking sadly at Marcel's wrists. "They had him chained up." He said quietly. He set his jaw firmly, drawing his mouth in a tight grimace. "Actually in fucking chains. I can't even-" He shook his head angrily, his eyes growing cloudy and dark.

Finn thought about that for a moment, before deciding that no, that was not something he wanted to think about. "How much else do you know, about what happened to him?"

"Not much. He doesn't like to talk about it. Every now and then, I can get him to, but I don't really like to push." Michael swallowed painfully, and brushed a bit of Marcel's spiky black hair off his forehead, where he placed a kiss. He glanced at Finn. "I just feel so frustrated, y'know? Like I want to make it better for him _so bad_ but I can't."

"Well, you could try to help with somethings." Finn said slowly.

"Like?"

Finn looked away. "Um, well, I don't know if you really know _why _he keeps coming to me-"

"I do." Michael said instantly. Finn couldn't tell if he was bitter or angry about it- the emotion was gone from his voice once again. "He wants to instigate you into _raping _him. Well, he thinks about it as screwing but that's not what it would be."

"Uh, so do you know why-"

"Yes, Finn, I know." Michael hissed, glaring at him. "He's _horny._ Is that what you want me to say? They spent all their time there fucking him and getting him off, and even though he hates it, he can't _fucking _live without it." Michael turned away before Finn could get a good look, but for a second Michael's cloudy eyes had seemed glassy, as though they were filling up with tears. "Are you goddamned fucking happy now?"

"Uh no, not really." Finn mumbled. Michael glared. "Look my point is, you can help him with that."

"How?"

"By-" Finn raised his eyebrows, widening his eyes suggestively. "-you know."

Michael sighed. "I don't know if that's a good idea. I mean, it's treating a symptom."

"'While the disease rages on, consumes the human race. The fish rots from the head, so they say. So I'm thinking, why not cut off the head?'" Paige said in a mechanical voice, not looking up from her sketch.

"'Of the human race?'" Finn asked, playing along with what she was quoting.

Now she looked up, grinning. "'It's not a perfect metaphor.'" She finished.

Michael looked back and forth between them. "You two are goddamned nuts."

"It's from 'Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog.'" Finn informed him.

"Oh I know what it's from. Doesn't change the fact that you two are goddamned nuts."

* * *

"I have something else I want to do, too." Kurt continued quietly. "But I'm not really ready to talk about it, just yet."

"You don't need to then." Blaine said simply. Kurt smiled a bit, snuggling back against him.

"Do you have anything you want to talk about?" He asked, tilting his head up to look at Blaine.

Blaine shrugged. "I got my english paper back."

"And?"

"B+."

Kurt turned around a little. "Well, that's good then, right? I mean since you only _thought _you were going to get a B. And you got a plus. That's plus!"

Blaine laughed. "Yeah, it's fine. Nothing wrong with a B+."

"That is very true, there is nothing wrong with a B+." Kurt agreed. "But you know, this is a safe place." He said, gesturing between him and Blaine. "You can bitch, if you want."

Blaine hesitated for a moment, before sitting up on the couch. Kurt sat up as well, and turned to face Blaine, both of them sitting with their legs crossed, knees touching. "It's just like, ok fine I know a B-"

"Plus." Kurt reminded him.

"_Plus." _Blaine said, rolling his eyes. "Whatever, a B+ is fine if your a person who get's B's, B+'s or like A-'s. If you get C's, it's fricken great. But I don't _get _C's. I don't get B's. I don't even get A-'s. I get A's. A+'s, usually. It's just what I do. I work hard, I do well. So fine, I get that when you complain about a grade that really doesn't seem like a bad one to most people you seem like sort of a- you know, prick or whatever, but look at this from my perspective."

Kurt smiled, listening to Blaine complain. It was kind of nice, actually, listening to him vent. Eventually he moved back into Blaine's lap, and Blaine moved on from his grades, to his family.

"It's just like, all the time you know?" He muttered, shaking his head. Kurt had his eyes closed and he nodded against Blaine's chest. "I mean, do we _really _need to celebrate every single one of their birthday's? I love my cousins, really and truly I do...but there's _just so much _of them. And we _just _had a reunion with the whole family!"

"Which cousin's birthday is this?"

"Breenie. She's turning 14. I think...anyways, you've been invited." Blaine said. Kurt could tell that despite his casual tone, he was holding his breath, waiting for his reply.

"Awesome." Kurt said, and he didn't even need to open his eyes to know Blaine was grinning like a mad man. "I like your family."

Blaine scoffed. "They're nuts. Possibly literally. You will be pleased to know that this gathering will be much smaller. Just my aunts and uncles. And their kids."

"When is this?"

"About two weeks, I think." He felt Blaine move his fingers through his hair, and he sighed softly. Two weeks...he'd have told Mercedes by then. His stomach knotted. He'd have done the other thing he wanted to do by then as well. He wondered if things would be different after that.

He didn't know. But he did know that after he'd told Mercedes...and after the other thing...he was officially ending the "recovering" period of his life. Two weeks. In two weeks, Kurt Hummel was going to get back to living.

* * *

*Yeah, this really is not what "Heart of Darkness" is about. Blaine knows that, he's just trying to be cute. I mean, the main character does have an obsession with a man named Kurtz, but the story is much deeper than that. It's about industrialization, atavism, struggling to maintain your humanity and civility in the face of savagery...

It's a great book, but a total bitch to read.

**A/N: Kurt's little inner-monolouge at the end there is signalling that soon, this story will be coming to a close. Don't worry, a few more chapters are on the way! And of course, an epilogue. I really like epilogue's. **

**Also, in my head I call this chapter "Reactions and Set-ups"**

So it totally wasn't filler. 


	27. Chapter 25

**A/N: Everyone who's told me they skip the finn parts and just read the Kurt stuff is going to be angry with me, because there's a lot more finn in this chapter. I'm sorry. I wanted to add more Kurt, but really it would have been forced and irrelevant. **

**Also, I can't remember if I've said so here, but I am very sorry for the slow updates. I've been having some health issues lately, and that along with you know, life, makes it hard to write. But just remember, if I push myself and collapse and die, then you'll never get to here how the story(ies) end. Well, I guess someone could take over for me if that happens, but still. Just remember, no matter how long it's been since I've updated, none of my stories will EVER be abandoned. Ever. **

Chapter 25:

Kurt sat on the couch, staring off into space and thinking. He'd been sitting there, space-staring, since he'd gotten home from his appointment with Claudia 3 hours before. They'd had a lot to talk about, and now he had a lot to think about.

Telling Mercedes and meeting George had both been topics of conversation. Claudia thought telling Mercedes was a fabulous idea, as she did practically every idea Blaine had. They'd begun production on another script, trying to put a positive spin on the whole situation. The idea that there was a positive spin to put on it had seemed fairly laughable to him, but after a lot of glaring and eye-brow raising on her part, he had eventually agreed that focusing on the "I'm doing much better, almost fully recovered" aspect.

She wasn't sure exactly what to think of George, but after telling her about his comments to Jake, and what he'd said after, she decided that George was a safe person to keep around. That had led into another important topic, one Kurt was still putting off thinking about. Claudia had approved of it, and suddenly the reality of it seemed like a little too much. He still wasn't quite ready to think about it yet.

Because now, there was something else on his mind. And it had nothing to with George or Mercedes or Finn.

What he was thinking about, and had been for the past 3 hours, involved him and Blaine alone.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder then, making him jump and squirm a little. He settled down after a moment, seeing it was his Dad bringing him a snack.

"Buttered toast?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

Burt shrugged. "You look like you have a lot on your mind."

Kurt nodded. He definitely did. He took the toast, and Burt turned to walk away. "Wait, Dad- can I talk to you?" He called after him. Burt paused, and Kurt internally panicked. Why had he said that? Did he really want to talk to_his dad _about something like this? Burt came back over to the couch and sat down, and Kurt realized that yeah, he kind of did want to to talk to him. He couldn't explain why exactly, but something in him was saying that his Dad was the only one who could tell him what he needed to hear.

"What's up, kiddo?" He asked. Kurt hesitated.

"Well, it's kind of awkward…and you're probably not going to want to talk about it…"

"Lay it on me." Burt said.

Kurt cringed. "It's about sex."

His father furrowed his brow. "Kurt, you know that what Finn did to you wasn't-"

"No, no no." Kurt said, waving his hands in front of his face. "That's not what I mean. I mean like, sex. With…Blaine." He blushed and looked away. It was possible that this had been a terrible, terrible idea.

"Oh."

"…Yeah."

"Um, uh," Burt gave one of those awkward laughs that people make to fill uncomfortable silences, and readjusted his base-ball cap on his head. "Well, what did you want to talk about, uh, exactly?"

Kurt shifted around a little. "Well, Blaine said he was ready to do it-"

"What? You mean you haven't, um, _done it_, yet?"

Kurt shook his head. "No. _That's_ what I wanted to talk about." It may have been his imagination, but Kurt thought his Dad looked a little pleased. About what, he had no idea. "So Blaine said he was ready, if I wanted to, but we wanted to wait until I spoke to Claudia about it, just to make sure it was ok."

"And…she gave you the go-ahead today?" Burt questioned.

He nodded. "Yeah."

Burt nodded slowly, and Kurt took the period of silence to take a bite of his toast. The familiar taste of the fairly plain food was sort of comforting.

"So what's the problem then?" Burt asked after a few minutes.

"Well, I'm sort of…nervous." Kurt confessed, swallowing his toast. "It's really stupid, because I've been wanting to do it for a long time now, and I should be excited right?" Kurt didn't give his father a chance to respond. "And I guess I am, excited I mean...but I'm also really scared. And I don't know why. I just...I mean, I just don't know what to expect, or what's supposed to happen or what it's going to be like. I don't know what I'm supposed to _do _or how I'm supposed to act and it's just all...you know?" He said all this very quickly, and proceeded to take another large bite of toast immediately after, his eyes pleading with his father not to judge him.

Burt didn't. He took a few moments to try and digest everything Kurt had said, before carefully responding. "Well…it's ok to be nervous, first of all. Expected, even. I mean, of course you've had your uh, _issues _with sex. But it's not going to be anything like what and um, Finn, did. However, it is probably going to be awkward." Kurt paused his chewing for a moment, to blink at his father. Burt laughed a little. "Sorry kiddo, but that's really what sex is- awkward. No one knows how to act, or what to do. It can be kind of scary, especially-" Burt broke off here, and furrowed his brow.

"Especially what?"

He sighed, and pulled his cap off his head. "Especially your first time."

Kurt felt his breath hitch a little. His first time. He felt a little like laughing at the idea, and a little like crying.

"If it's so scary, and confusing-"Kurt asked, his mouth full of toast. He swallowed painfully. "Then why do people do it?"

His mind quickly flashed back to the sickening pleasure he'd used to feel, the agonizing sweetness underneath the layers of humiliation and pain. He crinkled his nose, wondering when exactly what had lost it's appeal to him. Why was he doing this then?

Burt shrugged. "Well, the thing is that even though it's awkward, and weird sometimes- I mean with all the different body parts and such- although I guess you have the same body parts." Kurt grimaced, and his Dad let his rambling trail off, realizing that train of thought was going nowhere good. Burt sighed and re-adjusted his baseball cap again. "My point, is that if you're doing it with someone you really love, and who loves you back, then it can also be really great. Just remember, you're in it together."

Kurt nodded, nibbling thoughtfully on his toast. They weren't exactly sage words of wisdom, nor were they eloquently spoken…but somehow it was exactly what he needed to hear.

In it together. Him and Blaine...they were in it together, weren't they? That's what he wanted...not that dirty, burns-so-good feeling Finn used to give him...not even that tender, loved-all-over sensation he'd gotten from Blaine that weekend...

Just Blaine. Suddenly, it was all about Blaine. When had that happened?

Kurt smiled, wondering when his story had stopped being about Finn and started being about Blaine. He wasn't sure, but it liked it better this way. Kurt put his toast down and moved closer to his father, who put his arms around him and pulled him into a warm hug. He wasn't sure what exactly had done it, but the nervous chatter had quieted a little in his stomach and head. Maybe it was simply that he'd wanted his father to reassure him that he could be ok.

Resting his face against his Dad's flannel shirt, he felt like maybe he could be.

"I don't want to be afraid of it anymore." He said quietly. "I don't want it to be scary."

"You don't need to be scared anymore kiddo." He gave Kurt a tight squeeze. "And never again."

Kurt nodded. "Never again."

* * *

Finn knew that Michael and Marcel's relationship was going to be difficult; afterall, they were both patients in a mental institution. As much as Finn knew Michael wanted to be there to make everything better for Marcel, he still had some issues of his own to deal with. However, until now any troubles they'd been having were being kept quiet.

It was a typical day in the bin when their troubles finally came to a head, and got to a point where keeping them quiet was no longer possible. Finn was watching Tiffany and Young play an actual game of chess with the chess board, and Paige was in a therapy session, when Michael came crashing out of the boys dorms, his eyes stormy and darting.

He darted over to Sheila, and grabbed the front of her scrubs. "Sheila, you gotta put my in solitary fucking _now_." He begged desperately.

"What?"

He jumped back from her, pulling at his hair and cringing horribly, before giving a frusterated yell and knocking over one of the smaller bookshelves. "YOU NEED TO PUT ME IN GODDAMNED SOLITARY, FUCKING NOW!" He screamed, gripping at his hair and doubling over, as though he was in pain.

Finn stood up, watching as Sheila grabbed Michael's arm and began to pull him over to hallway leading to solitary. Despite his requesting to go, he seemed to be resisting a bit, and he turned back to Finn for a moment. "Finn, don't let him see me like this, ok?" He pleaded.

Finn nodded, understanding all to well why Michael wanted to keep Marcel away from him when he was like this. "I promise dude." He said.

Michael stopped resisting, and let Sheila drag him away.

Less than a second later, Marcel darted out of the boy's dorms as well, tears streaming down his face. "Where'd he go? I didn't mean to-Finn?" He asked, biting his lip.

"Solitary." Finn said gently, putting his arm around Marcel's shoulders as they began to shake.

"But I need to see him." Marcel quivered, his eyes wide and glossy with tears. "I need to."

Finn bit his lip. "That's not really a good idea right now, Marcel. You should wait until he calms down."

"But I- I didn't mean it, I swear. I was just- I was just-" He broke down, burying his face against Finn's chest. "Oh fuck."

"Look, why don't we go to my room- no, your room-" He corrected, thinking that Marcel's 5 minute checks would stop anything…_inappropriate _from happening. "And you can tell me what happened."

* * *

"I didn't mean it." Marcel repeated, clutching his knees against his chest. Finn sat across from him on the bed, close enough to pat him on the shoulder when he needed to, but not too close. "I swear, I just being stupid." He shook his head bitterly. "So fucking stupid."

"Marcel, _what happened?_"

Marcel sniffed back a few more tears. "We were in his room, and we were kissing and stuff. I thought about what you said, about him h-helping me, and so I tried- I tried to-" Marcel choked, his lower lip beginning to shake again.

"It's ok, I get what you're saying."

He gulped, and continued. "But he didn't want to. He said it wouldn't solve the problem, not really. It would be a temporary fix, like putting a band-aid on a wound that needed stitches to heal. And…I got mad." He looked at Finn, his eyes round and pleading. "I didn't _mean _to get mad, I just felt so awful and frustrated and shit. And I said- I said-" He began sobbing again, harder than he had been before. It was a while before he could find the breath between his sobs to speak again. Eventually he was able to choke it out, gasping and stuttering all the while. "I s-said 'if you're n-n-n-ot gonna _fuck _me, th-then what's the p-point of _any _of this?'" He looked at Finn, his brow furrowed. "What the fuck is wrong with me? H-how could I s-say that?"

Finn was going to tell him that he was sure Michael knew he hadn't really mean it, but then he realized that considering his reaction, no, Michael probably didn't know he hadn't meant it.

"What happened next?" He asked instead.

"Uh, then he kinda pulled away from me, slowly. And- and I tried to like grab his arm, to tell him that I didn't fucking mean what I'd just said and I was so fucking sorry but, he yanked it away from me and he got this like- _look _in his eye. He stood up and went over to his dresser, and like leaned against it for a second before fucking smashing everything off the top. I got up too, and I put my hand on his shoulder, and it was shaking _so hard_. I wanted to tell him so badly that I just hadn't meant it, but before I could say anything he smacked my arm away and ran out of the room. I just- I need to tell him I didn't mean it. I'm not with him for _sex _or even anything, I'm w-with 'cause...'cause...I don't even know. I don't know what it is, but when I'm with him just feel..._ok._ Like maybe, it'll be ok." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know."

"Why don't we wait a little for him to calm down, and then you can go tell him that?" Finn said. "We were sort of going through the worst of it at the same time, so I wasn't really around for most of his freak outs, but I did see a few, and you won't be able to talk to him when he's like that."

Marcel sniffed. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"_Helping_ me. Being nice to me. All I've done since I got here is _torture _you. I've almost fucked up your recovery, just like I fucked up Michael's._" _

"You haven't fucked up Michael's anything. One replase doesn't throw away all the progress he's made since he's got here. If anything, you've been good for him. The only time I've seen a positive emotion behind that guy's eyes was when he was looking at you."

"Really?" He asked, those wide round eyes full of some repressed hope. Like he didn't want to let himself believe what Finn had said. Finn almost felt like reminding him that he was talking about Michael- the guy who sat in front of the TV for hours watching infomercials about socks on repeat. The guy who'd once dumped a bowl of lumpy-oatmeal on a boy named Justin's head for taking the last pop-tart (Justin had responded by stabbing Michael in the leg with a fork.) The guy wasn't exactly a prize. He didn't say anything though, because he doubted Marcel would have cared.

"Yeah, really." He simply said. If Marcel wanted to get all googly over Michael, who was he to stop him?

Marcel looked away for a moment. "You still haven't answered my question. You should _hate _me. Why are you helping me? No matter what I've done to you, you just keep being sweet and understanding. Why?"

Finn sighed. "You really want to know?"

"No. That's why I asked twice."

Finn shot him a side ways glance. "There are a few reasons. Some I like more than others." He mumbled, scratching his head. "I guess, everything you've done to me...well, fuck I deserve it. And more. What you did to me, what Gorey did to me- it's nothing compared to what I did to_ him_. And I don't blame you at all, because I know it's not something you want to do. The people in here, all of them- none of them are real people. They're like...shadows, I guess. Or they're real people, hidden under shadows." Finn furrowed his brow, hating trying to explain his thought process to someone. It always sounded so fucking stupid out loud. Paige was the only one who got what he meant. "The shadow's their disease- bi-polarism, IED, OCD, depression- that's the shadow covering up who they really are. And it makes them do things that the real them would never do. You can't blame the real person for what their shadow does. I don't blame you. And I want to help you get rid of your shadow, or make it lighter or whatever." He took a deep breath, getting to the real reason get wanted to help Marcel. The one he hadn't wanted to admit to himself for a while. "I want to help you, because you remind me of him. Of Kurt. And I guess if you can get better- if I can help you-"

"Maybe it makes up for what you did to him?" Supplied Marcel. He had a sad, sympathetic look on his face, like Finn was a small child who was still naive to harsh realities of the world.

"I know it doesn't. I'm not dumb." He reconsidered. "Well, not always. But I don't know...I want to help you anyways."

"Can I ask you how come you don't apply to the whole shadow theory to yourself?"

"Because I turned myself into a shadow." He said, shrugging. "I could have let someone help me, or I could have just let it go. Could have accepted it. When I started- what I did to Kurt, right when I started it, there were times I could have stopped. Before it went too far, before I seriously hurt him. I could have stopped. But I didn't. It made me feel better, I just ignored what it was doing to him and kept needing more and more until I couldn't stop. I did it to myself."

"Well, you should know that the real Finn never would have hurt him." Marcel said, climbing to his knees so he was eye-level with Finn.

"I don't really know who the real Finn is anymore..." He mumbled. "Or what he'd do."

"I do. This is the real Finn." He said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Finn wanted to believe it was a friendly gesture and nothing more, but he knew Marcel wasn't quite there yet. Finn brushed his hand off, but didn't say anything. Marcel smiled brightly. "And he's never hurt me."

Finn smiled, and decided not to tell Marcel how close he'd been to getting hurt the last time he'd come to him. He'd switched rooms now and could lock his door (only the orderlies, nurses and therpaists had keys). Even if Marcel wanted to, he wouldn't be able get the chance to get that close again.

"I think it's been long enough- we can go see if he's calmed down now." Finn said, getting up off the bed. Marcel remained. "Dude?"

He glanced up, and away quickly. "I want to go in. To the room with him."

Finn supressed a laugh. "Yeah, right. No way Sheila's gonna let you."

Marcel's lower lip began to quiver. "But-but I n-need t-too..."

He sighed. There was _no way _Sheila was going to let him. None. Zero. Asking would just piss her off. "No harm in asking, I guess." He muttered, and Marcel brightened and jumped off the bed. _Damn his tears. _

They wandered out of the boys dorms, and caught Sheila as she was striding across the main room, holding a first aid kit. "Do you think I can go see Michael?" He asked, making those big eyes that Finn doubted had any effect on Sheila.

She shrugged. "Knock yourself out. He stopped shaking about 10 minutes ago so-"

"No, I mean I want to go in with him. In the room. I want to be with him." He corrected, forcing his eyes wider.

She cocked an eyebrow. "What part of the whole 'solitary' thing do you have trouble with?" Marcel's lip began to quiver again, and Finn sighed.

"Please Sheila? He really needs to see him." He said.

She cast her eyes over him warily. "He can _see _him. I don't care. But he can't go into the room with him."

Finn took a deep breath, sure he was going to pay for what he was about to do. "Hey, Sheila? D'you remeber that time your co-worker got me alone in a room and stuck his dick down my throat?" Sheila narrowed her eyes. "Where were you, exactly, when that was happening? Just curious, but shouldn't you guys be keeping like tabs on where all the patients are or something?" Her eyes were absolutely blazing now, and Finn rushed forward before she interuppted and possibly killed him. "And remember how I talked my Mom into not sueing the crap out of you guy, when that happened? That was pretty good of me, huh?"

"Are you trying to _blackmail_ me?" She asked through gritted teeth. Finn glanced at Marcel, who had turned his wide, hopeful gaze onto him now. He had his fists clasped together and was holding them under his chin. Finn looked back at Sheila.

"Yeah, basically." He said miserably.

Something passed through Sheila's eyes, something like rage and then fury...and something else. Something really scary. Finn tried not to whimper.

"Alright. Fine. If being in solitary is so important to you, you can _both _go." She grinned. "Marcel can go in with Michael, and _you _can go in to another room."

Finn's widened. Oh fuck, why couldn't she just kill him? "Uh, but I-"

"That's my deal, Finny." She said, a look of serenity in her eyes now. "Both of you, or neither."

He glanced at Marcel again, and saw he was holding his breath. His shoulders slumped. "Alright, let's go." He mumbled.

Marcel gave a delighted squeal and jumped up and down. Sheila looked a little surprised. She looked at Marcel and handed him the first aid kit. "Here. He punched the wall and fucked up his fist. I was going to go in and bandage it now that he'd calmed down, but you can do it. We'll have a nurse fix it up later, right now we just need to stop the bleeding and clean it up."

* * *

With the first aid kit clutched tightly in his hand, Marcel walked slowly into the room. He'd never been in solitary, and looking around he realized exactly what Finn and Michael had done for him. The walls were some awful off-white colour, the only thing breaking up the dense void of the room being the bed in the corner...and the bright splash of red smeared across one of the walls, next to a small fist-shaped hole.

Michael was sitting on the floor near the bed, his knees up in front of his face and his head in his hand. He looked up when Marcel entered, and groaned, burrying his face back between his knees.

"Alright, I'm staying right here the entire time." Sheila said, closing the door behind him and speaking through the small window on it. "You just say when you want to come out." She said to Marcel. "And Michael, if you feel like you're about to lose it again you tell me, and I'll pull him out." Michael nodded. "You did good before."

"'Well'." Michael mumbled under his breath. Marcel didn't think Sheila had heard.

Slowly, he took a seat next to him, not saying a word. He'd run through about 50 different things to say in the time it'd taken them to walk from the main room to the solitary rooms, and he'd decided that they were all crap. So instead he just sat there, and waited. He would wait forever if he had to...Marcel had never liked anyone like Michael before, and he was pretty sure he'd never liked anyone as much as Michael either...he didn't know what that meant, but he was pretty sure it was worth waiting for.

He'd never liked someone so much like himself before...generally the guys he went after were sauve pretty boys with perfectly controlled constant 5 o'clock shadow and the kind of bed head you had to spend 50 dollars on product to get. Michael had actual bed head. He was quiet and he liked to read. He was the first boy who'd ever had a conversation with him about books, and what he'd thought of them.

That seemed kind of sad, now that he thought about it...but none of his friends had ever been into reading, either. They'd been into fashion and celebrities and guys. The only thing he had in common with them was they were all what his dad called "queerfags."

He'd had been worried he wasn't enough of a queerfag to hang out with them, so he did what any self-consious 14 year old would do. He'd changed to fit in. Pretneded to be someone else.

Eventually, he forgot he'd only been pretending.

Marcel placed a hand on Michael's broad shoulder; partly to comfort him, and partly to feel the fabric of his red flannel shirt. He thought flannel was the bed fabric in the world. It was soft and warm and it held that sweet fabric softner smell so much longer then any other fabric. He would have loved to be able to wear nothing but flannel, every day. When he was 13, he had.

Now he owned a closet full of skinny jeans and tight black t shirts, the kind that pressed the tag right against the nape of your neck and made it itch like fuck. His wardrobe was courtesy of his queerfag friends.

Marcel glanced down at Michael's hand on the floor next to him. His knuckles were bleeding, and his fingers were caked with drying blood. He picked up his hand slowly, careful not to move it too much and hurt him. He opened up the first aid kit took out the antispectic towel things, and ripped the package open with his teeth.

"This might sting a bit..." He said quietly, beginigng to dap Michael's knuckles. He didn't flinch. "...Guess not."

"No, it stings like a bitch." Michael said expressionlessly.

Once all the blood was gone from the wound, he took out the white bandages and began wrapping up his fist. As he wound the gauze around him, Michael finally spoke.

"Aren't you going to say something?" Michael mummbled into the silence.

"I want to, but nothing sounds good enough." He said, ripping off a piece of the white tape you use to keep the gauze together, and sticking it on Michael's hand. "What should I say?" There was a nervous pit in his stomach, and he tried to tell his brain not to say anything stupid. Not to fuck it up. He wished Michael would just lift his head a little so he could see him, see the dark blue of his calm eyes, the kind of blue that he kept telling himself wasn't indigo. Couldn't be. Eyes weren't indigo. Except maybe Michael's.

If he would just look up and look at him, he might be able to see where he stood.

Michael kept looking down. "Say whatever you want."

"I don't know how." He sighed, and began fiddling with the collar of Michael's shirt. "I mean, I don't know how to tell you what I want to say and make sure you believe it." He let his hand fall down against Michael's knee. "I want to tell you that I didn't mean what I said, first I guess. I don't care about that stuff- no, I do...but that's not why I'm with you. Not at all."

Michael looked up now, looked Marcel in the eye and he breathed a sigh of relief. His eyes were the same dark ocean they always were, ready to take in what he had to say and sweep him out to sea at the same time. "Then why are you with me? I mean, I don't really think I'm the kind of guy you'd go for..."

"You're not. At all." Marcel said quickly. Michael raised en eyebrow, as if to say "is this how you plan on making me feel better?"

"You actually have nothing in common with any guy I've ever gone after...especially since I actually like you." He continued. "I guess that's the reason I'm with you. It seems kind of obvious, but it's pretty new for me. Liking someone for who they are. Liking someone for the way they make you feel when they look at you, like you're more than just a vehicle for getting off. You're the first guy I've ever met who's talked to me about the books and authors I like, like you actually care what I think."

"Of course I care what you think. You're way fuckin' smart...and insightful. It's like you can tell exactly what the author was feeling when they wrote someothing, and you connect with it. It's amazing." He cast his eyes downward again. "I don't connect with anything."

"We're not connecting?" He asked, touching Michael's cheek and brushing away a stray piece of brown hair. Michael looked back up, an odd vulnerability behind his eyes. Some how it made them even more beautiful.

"I thought we were. I thought- thought you liked me."

"I do. We are." He whispered, leaning in to kiss him. Michael kissed him back, and not for the first time Marcel wondered why Michael's strong, awkward kiss was somehow more perfect than the most practiced kiss could ever be.

They pulled away slowly, and Marcel let his eyes flick over to the wall behind Michael, streaked with blood. "Nice job on the wall there." He said quietly, offering Michael a small smile. "So you're real fucked up, huh?"

Michael's face turned a bit red. "I guess so." He said, as close to sheepish as Marcel thought it was possible for him to get.

Marcel stood up and offered Michael his hand. "It's ok, I'm kind of fucked up too."

"Only kind of?"

Marcel reached over and flicked Michael's ear, and Michael responded with a rare smile before pulling him back into his arms and kissing him again. They heard Sheila sigh from behind them, and the door unlocked. "You two can come out when ever." She mumbled, walking off.

* * *

Finn looked up, hearing the click of the lock, and he jumped hopefully to his feet. "You're letting me out?"

Sheila glared angrily. "Yeah yeah. Something in my gut just doesn't like locking you in here for trying to help your friends." She mummbled, obviously angry with herself for not being a bit colder.

"That's called a conscience." He said, darting out of the room before she could change her mind.

"Don't make me taze you."

He smiled, and was about to run off to the main room when Sheila called after him. "Don't you want to wait for your minion?" She asked dryly, unlocking a third solitary room. Finn wandered back over and saw Paige sitting on the floor, carving a line into the wall with her thumb nail.

"Paige! What the fuck are you doing?" Sheila asked, grabbing her and hauling her up. "You've been in here for five fucking minutes!"

"I was carving my sentence into the wall." She said with a shrug.

"Why are you in here?" Finn asked, laughing at the line that had probably meant to be the first in a series of tally marks.

"She martyred herself out of solidarity." Sheila said, rolling her eyes.

"And '1000 Ways to Die' was on and everything." She said, bobbing her head. "But bros before shows and all that." She said, offering a peace sign.

* * *

**A/N: There was actually a lot more stuff about Marcel in this chapter, but I took it out because it was sort of skewing the focus of the story. However, I'll probably post it on tumblr, if any of you have that. It'll be tagged Nikkithedead, so just search that. my tumblr name is Carlathezombie. **


	28. Chapter 26

**A/N: Literally the longest chapter I have ever written for any story ever. Also this chapter is dedicated to Raine. Happy Birthday, there are hidden presents through out the chapter. **

Chapter 26:

Mercedes blinked and stared at Kurt with a slightly open mouth. He smiled awkwardly, and picked up an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie. She was reacting better than he'd expected, since she wasn't crying or screaming...yet.

He'd worked out what to say to her the day before with Claudia, and after a lot of debate over the subject, and then a lot of protesting from Blaine when he'd told him, they'd decided Kurt would tell her alone.

He'd invited her over to watch terrible romantic comedies and mock them mercilessly, while pigging out on a way too much ice cream and cookies. It was a slight variation on what they'd used to do together, where they would watch terrible romantic comedies and cry when they two good-looking protagonists finally got together, and she would pig out on cookies and too much ice cream and he would chew on a carrot.

That's where they were now, sitting on the couch in Kurt's basement, wearing sweat pants and watching "While You Were Sleeping." He'd just told her everything.

He put his half-eaten cookie down as he saw her eyes begin to fill with tears. "Kurt, I..."

"I know." He said, winding an arm over her shoulders. "It's ok. I'm ok."

She shook her head, tears beginning to fall freely now, leaving wet trails along her dark cheeks. "No, no it's _not_." She looked at him, her eyes full of emotions he hated seeing in the eyes of people he loved. Among the mass pity, regret and disgust were the most prominent. "I can't believe...oh god, I just _hate _myself!"

"What?"

"You stopped talking to me, and I just accepted that. I left you alone. I should have _known _something was wrong, I should have been there for you. I should have helped you, I-"

He held up a hand. "Mercedes, stop. There's a lot of things we all should have done, and we could spend the rest of our lives playing the 'I should have/I could have' game. Hell, I _have _spent a lot of time playing it. I should have done this, I shouldn't have done that, blah blah blah. It doesn't get you anywhere." He smiled at her, and grabbed a tissue off the table, wiping her tears away. "It's a lot more productive to focus on what you're going to do, from now on."

"Well, from now on I'm going to be there for you. Always." She wrapped her arms around him, and pulled him into a tight hug. He smiled, and for the first time realized just how much he'd missed her hugs.

"Good. My life needs a bit more fabulous in it right now."

She laughed a bit, squeezing him again before leaning away. "You're just so...god I don't even know what to say." She mumbled, wiping her eyes.

He bit his lip. "You can say whatever you want. Seriously Mercedes, I never want you to not know how to act around me. Ok? Please don't be tip-toeing around, about anything. If you have any questions, feel free to ask them. Feel free to say anything you want."

She smiled. "I think you've probably told me as much as I need to know. I don't think I'd actually want to know any answers to the questions I'd have."

"I just don't want you to start thinking of me as the guy who got raped."

Mercedes blinked at him. In the careful explanation he'd drawn out with Claudia, he'd managed to avoid ever using the word rape. Hearing it for the first time was obviously a shock. After taking in what he'd said, she grabbed his hand and held it tightly. "I swear to you, that you could never and will never be anyone but Kurt to me. No matter what's happened to you, or how you've changed, you'll always be the same Kurt I've always known and loved."

"Promise?" He asked, feeling his own eyes begin to tear up now.

"You know it." She said, and they moved forward to hug each other at the same time. Kurt laughed and squeezed her tightly, overwhelmed with the delirious notion that someone had filled his chest up with helium, and if he didn't squeeze her tight enough he would float away.

* * *

No one knew why, but suddenly visitors were a big theme in the bin. It started with Michael's mother and grandmother coming to visit on Monday afternoon, something that wasn't really anything to get worked out about, since they were regular visitors.

This visit was noteworthy however, as it was the first time they'd visited since Marcel had arrived. Marcel was asleep when they'd arrived (he tended to sleep a lot) but after a bit of coaxing from Paige, Robbie went to go wake him up.

He came out of the boys dorms, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Paige went to go over to him, but he was quickly intercepted by Lina. Paige crossed her arms, and stood grumbling by Finn as she watched Lina grab Marcel's wrist, and lean her forehead up against his, giggling. She glanced over to where Michael sat at a table with his family, and Marcel followed her gaze, his eyes widening.

They couldn't hear what she was saying to him, but judging by the way he was shaking his head against hers, she was most likely telling him to go over there. He crossed his arms stubbornly, and she sighed, lifting her head away. She cleared her throat and called out to Michael, who turned around. He smiled and got up when he saw Marcel.

Marcel shot Lina a dirty look before Michael came and pulled him by the wrist towards his family. Temporarily putting aside their differences, Paige and Lina quickly walked over the table next to theirs and sat down with a board game, to give their spying some pretense. Finn followed, unable to pretend he wasn't curious.

"Mom, Bubby," Michael said, holding his hands over Marcel's shoulders. "This is the boy I'm falling in love with."

Now, Finn and Paige had both had several conversations with Marcel where he'd spoken, in _horribly explicit_ detail about all type of sexual acts ranging from blow-jobs and rimming, to something called a "Rusty Bike Pump" that Paige was sure was actually meant to kill you. He'd been unflinching and unfazed the whole time, while Finn and Paige were trying to desperately avoid eye contact with anyone.

But when Michael introduced him to his family, as the boy he was falling in love with, Marcel blushed. Michael it seemed, was the only one who could make him blush.

This elicited loud "awwws" from Lina, Paige, Finn, Robbie and Casey (who were apparently also spying).

The next day, Finn received two visitors that were no where even close to being on the list of people he would have expected to receive visitors from.

"_What _did they say their names were?_"_ He asked, sure he'd heard Casey wrong.

"Sam Evans and Dave Karofsky." She repeated. Finn just gaped.

First of all, either of those two coming to visit was super random. And second of all, those two visiting together was just...not possible. They _hated _each other.

"Finn, if you don't want to see them then you don't have to." Casey said gently, mistaking his confusion for apprehension.

"Huh? No..it's not that. Uh, I guess send them in." He said, shrugging.

Casey nodded and went over to the door, sliding back the window to let Eleanor know they could come in.

Finn stood up as Karofsky and Sam awkwardly entered the bin, and he did a double take. "Sam, you're hair!" He exclaimed. "It's all not-blond!" His hair was shorter than it had been, and a light brown colour.

Karofsky smiled at him, and Sam shook his head. "I love how that's the _first _thing he notices."

"Whaddya mean?" He asked. They raised their eyebrows at him, and held up their hands, which is when Finn noticed that they were clasped tightly together.

Huh what?

"Huh what?" He asked, sitting down at a near by table. They took a seat across from him, and Finn stared at their hands, which they were holding on top of the table. "Oh wow."

They smiled a little at him, their faces sympathetic to his cluelessness.

"So, umm...how did this happen?"

Sam flushed, and looked at Karofsky, who nodded. Sam smiled sheepishly and cleared this throat. "Um, well it's kind of a funny story, actually. I was um, in the showers at school and he had just come into the locker room, and was getting ready to use the weights. And, you know I kind of like to sing in the shower-"

"Loudly." Karodsky added, smiling fondly at Sam. "And slightly off key."

Sam rolled his eyes in mock-exasperation. "What's the point of singing in the shower if you're not going to belt?"

"No point." Finn agreed. He missed singing in the showers, actually. But it was too hard to really get into it when you had an orderly listening in.

"So anyhow, I was in the shower singing- I don't remember what song-"

"Too Little, Too Late by the Barenaked ladies." Karofsky supplied.

Sam blushed. "Oh, right." He said, all but batting his eyelashes. A little voice in the back of Finn's mind said "aww." The voice sounded suspiciously like Paige.

"So he comes over and his face is like bright red," Sam continued. "And he shouts 'would you shut the fuck up already? I'm trying to get ready in peace over here!' And I'm like 'dude, sorry,' and he just yells back 'you should be goddamned sorry! I got a lot of shit on my mind and I can't concentrate when you're being all fucking hot, and in the goddamned showers, and you're stupid fucking sexy voice won't let me forget it!'"

"He did not say that."

Sam laughed and Karofsky covered his face with his hands. "I was emotional." He mumbled through his fingers. "It just…came out."

"And with it, so did you." Sam joked, poking his arm. He turned back to Finn, to continue the story. "Anyways, after that he just sort of ran away, and I mean I was pretty shocked so I didn't go after him or anything. And I mean, I've always sort of thought that maybe I might like guys too, but I never had a chance to really you know, _test_ it. And I don't feel great, really, about what I did, because I was still with Quinn-" He shook his head, obviously still kicking himself over it. Karofsky ran a thick finger over Sam's cheek and offered him a reassuring smile, which Sam returned. "But I just spent the whole week thinking that maybe this was my chance- and I didn't know if I'd ever get it again. It was after the game that Friday, and Bieste had sort of held me after to talk to me about a play I'd fumbled," Finn just realized that with him gone, Sam would be the quarterback again. He was surprised by how much he didn't care. Actually, he was almost happy for Sam. Almost. "And when I got into the locker room, there was only one other person in there." He turned and smiled coyly at his boyfriend, who was basically eye-fucking him back. Finn had to smile on them, although the whole thing seemed smack on the line between adorable and really, really weird. He wasn't sure which way they were leaning.

"I feel bad about cheating on Quinn, but I had to. I had to know." Sam finished.

"I get that." Finn said, thinking about the first time he'd kissed Rachel. He smiled. The memory seemed like someone else's life.

"I know you feel bad, but I just can't." Karofsky said. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't made a move. I don't know where I'd be, or how I would have gotten through what happened." He whispered, shooting a look at Finn. "I probably wouldn't have."

"I don't feel bad about making a move. I couldn't either. But I feel bad that I didn't break up with Quinn beforehand."

"Uh, what happened?" Finn asked, trying to keep himself in the conversation.

Dave looked at him, a touch of panic in his eyes. Finn thought he saw Sam tighten his grip on his hand. "What?"

"You said if Sam hadn't made a move, you wouldn't have been able to get through 'what happened'." Finn repeated. "What happened?"

Sam looked questioningly at Dave, who took a short breath. "Um, well…_you _happened, I guess." He mumbled. "I was um, the one who found you. After you, you know."

Finn's eyes grew wide. "Oh fucking shit Dave, I'm so- oh fuck, I'm sorry." He'd never even thought about it- how he'd gotten from the locker room to the hospital. He knew someone must have found him, obviously, but he'd never thought about _who _that was or what it must have been like. He pictured it in his head, Dave walking into the locker room and finding a tub filled with blood- and a body inside. His body. "Oh shit…"

Dave smiled weakly. "Yeah, 'oh shit' is a pretty good way of putting it. I thought I was gonna go nu-" He broke off, and bit his lip. Finn laughed.

"Dude, don't worry. Yeah, I went nuts. You don't need to tip toe." He shook his head, and Dave looked relieved. "I'm really fucking sorry that my going nuts had to affect you though. I never should have done that in a public place-" He shook his head. "I wasn't thinking right."

"Obviously." Sam said, and Dave shot him a look. "What?"

"Nah, Sam's right. I mean, look where I am. Obviously, there wasn't a whole lot of right thinking that led me here."

Dave looked down. "You seem…good though. Y'know, better. Not like you were…before." He looked up hopefully, as though if Finn was better then maybe he could stop waking up in the middle of the night with the site of his blood-drained body flickering behind his eyelids. Finn couldn't know it, but that was exactly what Dave was thinking.

Finn nodded. "I guess I'm doing good. Definitely a hell of a lot better then I was before."

"What happened, man?" Sam asked. "I mean, why'd you do it?"

Thankfully, Finn was spared having to come up some sort of lie (because like fuck was he going to tell them the truth) by Marcel and Lina sauntering over.

"Finny, introduce us to your friends." Lina purred, smiling at Sam, who blushed and inched closer to Dave.

Finn glared at her. "Marcel, Lina, this is Dave and Sam. They're gay."

Lina pouted, by Marcel's eyes lit up.

"Actually, I'm bi-sexual." Sam corrected.

"So? Why would you say that?" Dave asked, his darting angrily over Lina. "You're with me, so it doesn't really matter, does it."

Sam held up his hands. "I'm just saying."

"But why'd you have to say it _her_?" He growled. Lina smirked, obviously pleased with the trouble she'd caused.

"Don't be jealous. Lina can't help but have everyone want her." Marcel said, pulling himself up and taking a seat on the edge of the table. Dave just glared at him.

"I don't." Sam said quickly, shaking Dave's arm. He turned to Lina for a moment. "I mean sorry, but I love him." He turned back to Dave. "I love _you_."

Dave seemed midly reassured, but he continued to glare at both Marcel and Lina.

"So, just out of curiosity, which one of you is the bottom?" Marcel asked, looking back and forth between then. Lina giggled and leaned against Marcel.

"I do _not _see how that's any of your business." Sam said instantly, his face turning bright red.

Lina giggled harder, and pressed her lips against Marcel's ear. "I think we found our bottom." She whispered loudly. Marcel grinned.

Finn was about to tell them to cut it out, but Dave beat him to it. "Look, we fucking take turns, ok? Now if you don't want anything, would kindly go the fuck away?"

Marcel smiled at Dave, and leaned in closely to Sam, who he was sitting in front of. "You know, you can flip an oreo cookie over all you want, but the bottom's still the bottom."

"How d'you know which halves the bottom? It's a cookie." Sam asked, leaning away a bit.

Marcel grinned. "Easy. The bottom's the one covered in the creamy filling." He said, and then hopped off the table. He and Lina linked arms and walked away, giggling madly.

"What the fuck was that?" Dave asked through a painfully gritted jaw.

"Uh, that was Lina and Marcel." Finn said lamely. "They've got some, um, _issues._"

"I'll say." He growled.

"Cut them some slack, ok? They've been through a lot."

"And they'll go through a whole lot more if they come near Sam again."

"So, uh, tell me about things at McKinely. How are they going? How's Glee? Who's dating who behind who's back?" Finn asked, rubbing his hands together and trying to change the subject to something a bit lighter.

"Well, uh, things are basically the same. You know, drama, angst and singing." Sam smiled. "Let's see…um, Coach Sylvester had a nervous breakdown and tried to shoot Brittany out of a canon, but Santana stopped her at the last second and punched Sue in the face. We're still waiting to see if she's gonna press charges."

"Wow. That's intense."

"That's nothing." Dave said. "Remember Matt Rutherford?" Finn nodded. "Turns out he didn't transfer schools. He ran away to Las Vegas to work as a drag queen in a chorus line."

"No shit!" Finn exclaimed.

"Yeah. So that's why he never wanted to hang out with us after practice or anything- he was going to drag clubs to practice. "

Finn shook his head. "I never would have guess that."

Sam shrugged. "In other news, we won Regionals, but lost Nationals. Came in 10th place though, which is pretty good considering we picked out our set list literally the day before, and had no practice to speak of. I had fun though."

"Yeah, what was New York like?"

"Awesome. So cool. We had a blast."

"It was ok…" Dave mumbled.

"You went?"

"Well, with you gone we needed a replacement...Dave stepped in and saved the day. After a lot of begging from me, and a lot of apologizing to the club from him." Sam smiled.

"I'm not very good. No where near as good as Sam." Dave said, shaking his head. "I'm probably the reason we lost."

Sam smacked his arm. "Davie I _told _you, we lost because were laughably unprepared and the competition was fucking amazing. And besides, you helped us win Regional's, didn't you? If you weren't good, we wouldn't have been able to win with you."

Finn decided not to point out that they'd once won with Jacob Ben Israel on their team.

"What about couples? Besides you guys, I mean."

Dave's lips twitched a bit, and Finn realized that he was almost smiling. Which was a vast improvement from the glower he'd had on his face since Marcel and Lina and come over. "Brittany and Santana got together. Sort of inspired us to come out."

"That, and everyone sort of found anyways." Sam shook his head. "I could've killed Puck."

Dave shrugged. "It was for the best. Besides, things aren't so bad." He grinned. "Everyone's afraid to say anything now, because after the king of the homophobic jerks turned out to be gay-" He pointed to himself, "It really helped to reinforce the stereotype. Which is really working in our favour."

"And it turns out we have more supporters then we thought, too. Some kid in the chess club even came out a while ago."

"Oh how _lovely_." A voice behind them cooed. Finn moaned. Marcel was back. "The chess team though, seems kind of random, no?" He asked, taking a seat back on the table in front of Sam.

Sam shrugged. "People come in all shapes and sizes. That includes gay people."

Marcel smiled at him. "Wow, pretty and smart." He leaned in closely. "What a catch."

"You better back the hell off him, or I swear to god-" Dave threatened, glaring at Marcel.

"Sorry, I can't help it." Marcel trilled, staring lustfully at Sam, who looked panicked. He flicked his eyes over to Dave. "Besides, you know it doesn't make sense for a guy like him to be with a guy like you."

"Back off, dude." Sam and Finn said at the same time.

"Come on, you know you're sick of dining on Big Macs." Marcel whispered, ignoring their warnings. "Why don't you try something lighter."

"That is IT!" Dave shouted, jumping to his feet. He yanked Marcel off the table and threw him against the wall, holding him by his shoulders. Marcel just snickered. "I swear to fucking god I will beat the living day light out of you, you little shit."

Marcel laughed, and Dave slammed him into the wall again. "Please, like you even could. Just because you're big and sweaty doesn't mean you've got the muscles or balls to do _shit_."

"Marcel, shut the fuck up man!" Finn shrieked, rushing over as Dave slammed him into the wall, holding him tighter then before. Marcel smirked at him for a moment, and suddenly Finn realized what he was doing.

It had nothing to do with Sam.

Dave was practically pressed right up against him, and Finn could see that his knee was pressed tightly against Marcel's groin, holding him to the wall. He was shaking him, and tugging him around.

"Dave, stop, you're giving him what he wants." Finn said, grabbing Dave's shoulder. Dave shrugged him off and ignored him.

"Wow you've got a weak grip." Marcel critized, wiggling his shoulders under Dave's hands. He looked at Sam, who was standing behind his boyfriend. "That must be frustrating."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Dave screamed, punching Marcel in the gut. Marcel doubled over, and Dave slammed him back against the wall, holding him even tighter. He smacked Finn's arm away as he tried to pull him off.

"Is this hard enough for you, you fuck?" Dave seethed, his face an inch away from Marcel's.

"No.." Marcel practically moaned. "Harder."

Finn could see Dave's knee press harder against his groin, and Marcel let out a loud moan. As the unexpected sound left his lips, Dave's shoulders stiffened, and he jumped away from Marcel, who sank down to the floor, a sickly satisfied smile on his face.

Lina walked over, most likely have been watching the entire thing, and knelt next to him. She put her hand between his legs, and he giggled deliriously. "You could at least finish him off, you know." She chided, making a clicking sound with her tongue.

Dave looked like he was about to cry, and Sam wrapped his arms around him. "I-I…what the fuck was that?"

Sam shook his head. "I think I need to sit down…and vomit."

Finn glared at Marcel. "That was not cool." He said, leading Sam and Dave over to one of the private rooms. From the look on Marcel's face, he knew that he knew what he'd done was bad, and was going to be killing himself for it later.

Dave calmed down after a little while, and Finn explained about Marcel's problems. They left shortly after, and Finn was surprised when they told him it was nice to see him, and they'd like to come back sometime, possibly with other members of the glee club. Finn told them he'd like that.

* * *

"If I ever turn into one of these people, kill me." Kurt said, shaking his head at the TV. They were watching "He's Just Not That Into You" now, and he was extremely fed-up with the cardboard cutout gay best friends peppered through the film.

"'Kay." Mercedes said, popping a brownie in her mouth.

"Seriously, I mean have you noticed that there has not been one scene with a gay character that doesn't revolve around a straight person's romantic dilema's?" Kurt asked, stuffing a handful of chips in his mouth. "It's like these guys only exist to wear tight pants and help their straight friends with their love lives."

"And be _fabulous._" Mercedes said, making her wrist limp and lisping.

Kurt laughed. "Exactly." He shook his head again. "And people say _I'm _a flamer..."

"Oh, you are sweetie." Mercedes replied, ruffling his hair a bit. He glared at her. "But these guys are bonfires."

Kurt laughed. "Oh, that's good."

They continued watching the movie, until Mercedes turned to Kurt, clearing her throat awkwardly. "Uhh, Kurt, remember how I'm allowed to ask you whatever I want?"

"Uh, yeah."

"...have you and Blaine had sex?"

Kurt smiled and shook his head. "No, not yet." He bit his lip, still grinning. "But we're going to, soon."

"And, you're like...ok with that? I mean, sex?" She asked, looking at him with wide eyes.

He shrugged. "Yes and no. I mean, I _want _to have sex. A lot." He looked away. "For a while, it was all I wanted..."

Mercedes eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Seriously? I woulda thought that after- you know, what Finn did to you, I woulda thought that'd be the last thing you'd want."

Kurt sighed. "Yeah, it's fucked up. I guess, I don't know, I was used to it. My body was used to getting off like every other day and when it just stopped happening, it liked freaked out." He shrugged. "It's better now, but yeah."

"What about the 'and no?'"

"Well, I'm...nervous, I guess." He admitted. "I mean, I know everyone says that what Finn and I did wasn't sex, so when I do have sex it won't be anything like that but, I don't know. I guess I'm nervous it'll still be painful, and awful and scary. And I don't want it to be."

Mercedes put her arm over his shoulders, and he leaned against her. "Then why do you want to do it?" She asked softly.

He sighed. "I've been thinking a lot about that, actually. There's a few reasons, I guess." He picked up a cookie and bit into it, chewing slowly as he tried to figure out how to arrange his thought process into something conveyable with words. "I think I just sort of need to prove it to myself once and for all that what Finn and I did- what he did to me, wasn't sex. I want to know, I mean _really know _that it was something completely different. I want to know that sex can be ok. And then, and I do hate to admit this," he smiled a little. "But I am _so _sexually frustrated. I mean, it's not an all-consuming-torture type thing like it used to be, where it was all I thought about, all the time." He shook his head. "One time I actually skipped class just to jerk off. I think that was a new low."

"You're kidding! Like, at _school?_" He nodded. "_How?_ I mean, not how, I know _how _but like._..where?"_

Kurt looked away, chewing on his lip a bit. "...I put an 'out of order' sign on the handi-cap bathroom."

She blinked at him. "Boy, that is so fucked up."

Kurt laughed, and began to feel tears well up in his eyes. "Yeah, I guess so." He laughed again. "God, it's fucked up." He tried to wipe the tears away, but they kept rolling down his cheeks.

"Oh baby don't cry! I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"No, no I'm not upset." He chuckled and turned to her, taking her hand in his. "I'm happy. _Thank you._"

"...for telling you you're fucked up?"

"Yeah." He smiled at her. "You have _no _idea how worried I was that things would be different between us- awkward. That you would just be tiptoeing around me, watching everything you said. I couldn't stand that. You have no idea- just, thank you. So fucking much."

Mercedes smiled and pulled him into a hug, kissing his forehead. "Kurt baby, I promise I will always be here to tell you how fucked up you are." He laughed, and hugged her back, and she was quiet for a moment. She leaned away, and looked at him. "But I gotta say, considering everything that happened, I'd say you're pretty un-fucked up." He raised an eyebrow. "For serious. Like, knowing everything you went through, everything that happened, everything you're _still _going through- it's kind of amazing. I mean, we're sitting in your basement eating cookie, watching bad movies and _laughing_. That's pretty incredible, right?" She shook her head. "You're pretty incredible."

He blushed. "Thank you...honestly, if you'd told me 6 months ago I could feel this...unfucked up, I would have laughed. And then killed you."

"Literally?"

"Possibly." They laughed, and Kurt bit his lip. "There's another reason I want to have sex." He added, after the laughter died down. "It's not just like, _sex. _It's sex with Blaine." He covered his face with his hands. "Oh god that sounds so _lame_."

"It sounds sweet." Mercedes said, pinching his cheek. "Kurties in _looove_."

He tried to glare at her, but it just wasn't sticking. Eventually he gave in and grinned. "Yeah...it's terrible. I'm one of those awful people I hate."

She smiled. "That's okay, I love you anyhow. However," She pointed her finger dangerously. "When it happens, I expect details. A lot of details. Preferably of the explicit variety."

"What if it goes badly?"

"Then as your best friend it will be my duty to point out all the ways that it does _not _sound terrible, thus warping it in your mind for the better."

"I said badly. Where'd terrible come from?" He asked, biting his fist in mock-anxiety. "Why would you think it would sound terrible."

She narrowed her eyes. "Boy I am not afraid to bruise that angel face of yours."

He grinned and wrapped his arms tightly around her. "I wuv you 'Cedes."

"Don't think you being adorable is gonna stop me from the bruisin' we were just talkin' about..." She mummbled.

* * *

Marcel was still feeling terrible the next day when _his _visitor arrived.

"Marcel, it's your Dad again." Casey said quietly. "Think you could see him this time?"

Marcel's father had tried to visit him several times over the few weeks he'd been there, and each time Marcel had refused to see him. Maybe he was tired of saying no, maybe he was punishing himself for his behaviour the day before, maybe he just thought it was time. Whatever reason, today he said yes.

Whoever Finn had been expecting Marcel's father to be, it was not the man who walked in.

Marcel's Dad was a large, burly man with a neat mustache and thick, furrowed eyebrows. He was the type of man who you'd expect to see standing at attention in the army, shoulders back and arm raised high in salute.

The man was probably about Finn's height, and the way he towered over Marcel as the boy approached him just reinforced how very out of his element his father seemed. Marcel didn't seem to know what to do either, and they both stood there awkwardly for a minute.

"So, y'know...hi, I guess." Marcel mumbled, looking at his shoes. His father stared at him for another moment, and slowly Finn began to see the stern look he'd had on his face since he'd entered the room begin to crack and crumble. Slowly, his broad shoulder began to shake and his body curved forward, as though his spine had simply lost the will to keep him standing up straight.

"I-I-I'm s-so-o s-s-sorry, Mars." His dad choked, making no attempts to wipe away the tears suddenly crashing down his cheeks. "So, so sorry."

Finn, Paige and Michael were standing a little behind him, and they couldn't see the look on Marcel's face or his reaction to his fathers tears. However, it had seemed like he'd taken a step backwards. They slowly moved over to a table where they could see them both properly.

Marcel looked unaffected. "What are you sorry for? I was the big queerfag." He said with a shrug.

His father choked back another sob, and brushed the tears away now. His shoulders continued to shake. "N-no. N-none of it was your fault." His father crumpled up again. "It was _mine. _I-I used those f-fucking _words_ and said all that _shit _and y-you got the wrong idea. I p-pushed you away, p-pushed you to- to-"

"You didn't push me to anything. That's just who I am. A queerfag-slut. You said so."

"_No. _I never should have said that! That's bullshit. You're a great kid, Mars you always were I was just-"

Marcel held up his hand. "Dad, stop it. I know you feel bad about what happened, but it didn't change anything. Just cause I got raped, it doesn't mean I'm suddenly dick-a-phobic. I'm not gonna try and find myself a nice girl to settle down with. Nothing's changed. I still like dudes, and still like them a fucking lot."

Before Marcel was even finished, his father looked like he was about to fall over. Finn was surprised when he didn't. He did however, stagger forward and grab Marcel's shoulders. His large hands covered them completely.

"_I don't care!_" His father would have shouted, if it wasn't for the tears still choking the words down. "That's what's changed. I don't give a shit what you like, because you're my boy and I love you. I will never, ever forgive myself for pushing you away like I did, and for using those _awful _words about _you _or anyone. I'm s-so sorry..." He disolved into tears, falling to his knees and crying against Marcel's chest.

"Why did you then?" Marcel asked, his voice begining to shake. "I was still your kid then too, and it was like you _hated _me."

"No I never hated you. Never. I-I didn't understand you." His father shook his head, sitting back on his heels and looking up at his son. "Even before you told me you were- you were_ gay, _I still didn't get you. You were always so much _smarter _then me. All those stories you used to make up, all the things you used to read...it went right over my head. And then all of a sudden you were dressin' different, and _talking _different and I just...I don't know. I was an ignorant _bastard._"

Marcel looked down for a moment, and then burst into tears. Across from Finn, Michael gave a awkward twitch, as though he'd intended to get up but hadn't let himself.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I changed! I didn't really want to, I just wanted to fit in with my friends. I was too _different _from them, from like how everyone said people like me _should _be. Like how you said people like me were." Marcel sobbed. His dad stood up and pulled him into his arms. Michael seemed to relax a bit, now that _someone _was hugging him.

They hugged and cried for a while, each apologizing rapidly for what seemed like every wrong they'd ever commited. Eventtually they broke apart, and his Dad cleared his throat. "Uh, there's somethin' else I gotta tell you. They uh, got some guys that they think might of done it."

Finn was a little surprised by the look on Marcel's face when he told him that. He looked scared and worried, but somehow, not for himself. "How do they know?" He asked, sounding slightly panicked. He, Paige and Michael exchanged confused glances.

"They don't yet, but uh...they have that um, _evidence_, that they say they can use to identify them."

Marcel smirked a little at the word "evidence" and Finn wondered what exactly that evidence was. "So it might not be them?"

"They seem pretty sure. Apparently they weren't too careful when they were moving around." The panicked look was back.

"Oh."

"The _evidence _they got was uh, um it showed-" He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "It was from around five guys, and that's how many they caught so-"

Marcel's head snapped up. "They caught five guys?"

"Yeah. Is that how many, um, how many there were?"

Marcel hesitated. "...Yeah. Five guys."

"I'll be damn glad if they did catch them, but I can't say part of me won't be a bit sad too. I'd have liked to catch those motherfucks _myself _and-" His father shook his head angrily. "It's just a real shame they don't use the electric chair anymore, is all I'm saying. I'd love to watch the fuckers fry."

"Yeah..." Marcel mumbled half-heartedly. "Watch 'em fry..."

The look on Michael's face told Finn he wasn't the only one who could hear the insincerity in his voice.

* * *

Kurt placed the back of his hand against his mouth to try and stiffle the giggles that were escaping it as he checked his cellphone in class. The teacher looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, and he awkwardly attempted to turn the giggles into a cough.

"What's so funny?" George asked, leaning over. It had taken a bit of effort, but Kurt had finnaly convinced George that since they were friends now, it was appropriate to sit next to each in class. He was pretty sure George was having a hard time wrapping his head around the concept of having a friend.

"Blaine sent me a text saying that Mr. Abrams toupee just fell of during class and landed in someone's baritone." He snickered again.

"Mr. Abrams wears a toupee?" George asked, sounding surprised.

"Well, I always said he did but Blaine never believed me." He flipped his phone back open and began texting a reply. "Now he owes me 5 dollars, and a kiss."

George gave him a very wide smile, which was sort of odd for George. "That's cute."

Kurt nodded, and pressed "send" on his text message.

**Told you so. Darn, should've bet a blowjob...**

"You're in a good mood, hmm?" Kurt asked, stuffing his cellphone back into his pocket.

George shrugged, still smiling a little. "I guess."

"Any particular reason?" Kurt pressed.

George opened his mouth to respond, closed it, and turned away. "Um, it's not really-"

"Oh come _on,_" Kurt whined, rolling his eyes.

George sighed. "I'm, after school- I'm going to visit Paige." He said quietly, smiling again as he said her name.

"Oh that's so cute!" Kurt chirped, a little too loudly. The teacher once again turned to glare at him, and he leaned in closer to George and lowered his voice. "Why didn't you want to tell me that?" George shot him a look, and Kurt remembered where Paige was. With Finn. "Oh yeah." His phone beeped with a reply from Blaine.

**Well, I'm a nice guy so we'll see about one of those anyways ;D**

Kurt giggled again, but was spared the teacher's glares as the the bell rang at the same time, and Kurt and George gathered their things and began to head out. "Hey, George can I ask you something?"

"Sure, but I offer no garuntees as far as an answer goes." George replied.

"I was just wondering, um, what he's like. Now, I mean." He fiddled with the sleeve of his blazer a little. "You said he's different then when you first met him, so..."

"Oh." George thought for a minute. "Well, mostly he's kind of goofy. Funny, I guess, although I think we've got slightly different senses of humour. I once heard Paige describe him as a big, cuddly teddy bear, if teddy bears masturbated a lot and used to rape people."

Kurt furrowed his brow. "I feel like I want to laugh, but at the same time be a little offended."

George nodded. "That makes sense. But I guess the teddy bear analogy is pretty accurate. Because he seems like a really nice guy when you're around him, and kind of a goofball, but then every now and then you remember what he did and it's like 'oh...right.'"

"He sounds like the old Finn." Kurt mumbled. "Goofy, funny teddy-bear..."

"Is that good or bad?" George asked. "That he's like 'the old Finn?'"

Kurt shrugged. "No idea." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Honestly, I-"

"Hey, new-old guy is hanging out with Kurt!" Nick cheered, coming up behind them and wrapping his arms around over both their shoulders. "Awesome!"

"New-old...?" George asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You used to go here, so you're old, but you also just started coming here again, so you're new." Kurt explained. "Thus, new-old."

"Exactly." Nick confirmed, letting go of them and beginning to walk beside Kurt. Kurt noticed that Jeff was walking with them as well, but wasn't saying anything.

George nodded. "Makes sense."

Nick gave a wide grin. "Someone thinks I make sense. You're now my favourite person."

"Am I so easily replaced?" Jeff mumbled, giving them a small smile.

"Well, you're basically the same person." Kurt said, shrugging. "So it's not really replacing you."

"Are we the same person?" George asked, sounding surprised. He looked Jeff over. "I hadn't realized."

Jeff grinned. "We are. Except of course for one key difference-"

"You know a girl!" Nick exclaimed. George looked startled. "Tell us about her. Please tell us!"

"Uhh-"

"He's seen you doodling a girl's name on your binder. He's easily excited." Kurt explained. "But come on, you know you're dying to gush about her."

George grinned shyly. "A little..."

* * *

"That's ridiculous." Marcel said, shaking his head.

"Why? It is not ridiculous." Replied Finn, crossing his arms over his chest. He was sitting at a table that he and Paige had pulled over to the TV area, playing Chinese checkers with her, a game that amused her so much she almost always lost ("BUT THE CHECKERS ARE _ROUND! _How is your mind not blown?"). Marcel had been lying down on Michael, who was lying down on the couch, but he jumped up to his knees and turned around on the couch to respond to Finn. Judging by the "oof" sound, he was now kneeling on Michael's lap.

"Sex and masturbation are _nothing _alike and it's _ridiculous _to say they are!" He snapped, shifting around on what he probably forgot was a human being (Michael) and not a couch.

"They are too. I mean they're not the _same _exactly, but it's the same ballpark-"

"'Ain't no fucking ballpark, neither'." Paige and Michel-the-human-couch quoted at the same time. *

"Exactly." Marcel said, not catching the quote. He'd expressed distaste for Pulp Fiction on more then once occasion. "They're completely different."

"Why?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. Paige took the oppurtunity to remove a few chinese checkers from the board, and begin rolling them around like marbles on the table. "Masturbation is sex with yourself."

"Bull-fucking-shit. It is _not _sex with yourself. How could it be? There's no penetration."

Paige made a face. "Yelch."

"So sex is all about penetration, is it?" Young asked, looking up from where she was sitting with her notebook at another table. "What about lesbians?"

"They need it too. Otherwise they wouldn't have invented strap-ons and fisting." He said with a shrug.

"What's fisting?" Tiffany asked. She was sitting with Young, and drawing a picture of a pony with one of Paige's old charcoals.

"Fisting is-" Marcel was cut off, as Michael's hand shot-up to cover his mouth. "Hmmph-mmph a fmph."

"Let her keep her innocene, ok?" Michael said, and withdrew his hand as Marcel bit down on it. "You play nice now."

"What?" Tiffany asked, pouting.

"It's better you don't know." Paige said, arranging the remaining chinese checkers on the board into a smiley face. Finn guessed they were done playing. "Chasing Amy explained it to me. I cried."

Tiffany shrugged and went back to her drawing.

"So you're saying any lesbian couple who doesn't have a kinky/masochistic side isn't really having sex?" Young continued.

"Yeah, basically." The general glare she had on her face instensified. "Sorry. It's not sex without penetration."

"You know, you're not exactly the world's foremost expert on sex." Finn said absently, rolling a few checkers over the table.

"What?" He snapped. Finn looked up and saw his eyes were narrowed dangerously. Considering he was about one sixth of Finn's size, it was surprising how intimidating he looked.

"I mean, I'm just saying, how many times have you actually _had _sex?" Marcel raised an eyebrow. "I mean had sex. Not you know...got raped."

Michael appeared above the back of the couch now, sitting up a little. He shot Finn a look that said "do not go there." Too late.

Marcel's face was beginning to flush a little, and he looked like he was struggling not to scream."What's the difference?" He finally managed. "The _act _is the same."

"Well, the act isn't the only thing you need to consider." Paige said, looking up from her checkers. "I mean, the context and intentions are just as important. Like, say you take someone and you put them on a table, cut 'em open with a scalpel, play around a bit with their insides and then sew 'em back up. If this happens in a hospital, and is done by a doctor who intends to cure them, then it's surgery. Standard procedure. But if it happens in an abandoned warehouse with a rabid lunatic who intends to look at the pretty colour of their spleen and make them cry for their mommy, then it's torture. The _act _is the same, but given the context, it's very different."

"Look, we're done, ok?" Michael said sternly. He placed a hand on Marcel's back, trying to calm him down. Marcel's entire face was now flushed red, and his eyes were brimming over with tears. Michael murmured soothingly in his ear, and Marcel lay back down him, sobbing a little against his neck.

Paige looked incredibly guilty. However, before she could burst into "ohmygosh-I'm-so-sorry-I-didn't-mean-to-please-stop-crying-oh-god-now-I'm-crying-too" tears, Casey and her gnat-attention span distracted her.

"Paige, you've got a visitor." Casey practically sang.

"Is it Dina? Did she bring cookies?" Paige asked, standing up. Dina was her older sister. She had visited a few times, and each time Paige had requested cookies. She had yet to bring her any, but Paige was hopeful.

Casey shook her head, trying to supress a grin. "It's George. Should I let him in or-?"

"Ohmygod George!" She shrieked jumping up and down exctiedly. "Let 'im in let 'im in!"

Casey smiled and did as instructed, and a moment later George wandered in, wearing his Dalton uniform.

"_George!_" Paige squealed, rushing over and jumping on him. Before he could respond, she placed a smooshy kiss against his lips. George's whole body went rigid, and Finn could practically see the cogs and gears he imagined his brain to consist of come to a grinding halt. Just as quickly, Paige suddenly sprang back from him, holding her arms behind her back and blushing coyly. "Whoops."

"No. No whoops. Good. That was good." George said, looking mildly dazed. He had an extremely dopey smile on his face, and his cheeks were bright pink.

"I missed you!" Paige cheered again, getting over her temporary shyness and hugging him again. He hugged her back, and brushed back a strand of her long black hair.

"I missed you too. A lot." He said quietly. He probably would have said something else after that as well, but the fact that Finn had come over, and was currently hugging the air of him kept him from it.

"George, man, it's great to see you!"

"Finn- doofus, crushing me- arg." George gasped. Finn let go of him and George gasped for breath.

"Sorry, I just missed you is all." Finn said, giving George a bright, Paige-like grin.

George smiled back. "Yeah, I missed you too. It's weird being back out there. Suddenly I've got a schedule again, and places I need to be, and things I need to do…"

"I woulda thought you'd like having a schedule." Paige said.

He shrugged. "I do, for the most part. But I also miss just sitting around with you guys, doing nothing all day. Oh! I almost forgot…" he said, reaching into his messenger back. "I got presents."

"Is it a cookie?" Paige asked excitedly.

George frowned. "No. But next time I see you, I promise to bring cookies. However, I thought you'd like this anyways, despite it's inedibility." He handed her a long recantgular box, and she lifted the lid off and squealed in excitement.

"Oh my god they're _beautiful _George!" She cried. The box contained a rainbow of pastels, each small and neat looking, and appearing in three different shades of every colour. She turned to leave, paused, turned back around and gave George another quick kiss on the lips for running off to get her sketch pad.

George resumed his dopey smiling.

"Not that I don't want to let you enjoy what's probably the high point of your life so far, but how come Paige gets a present and I don't?" Finn pouted, poking George on the shoulder.

"Huh? Oh, right." George said. "Of course I got you something, Finn!" He reached back into his bag and pulled out a plastic bag that said "Mr. E's Convenience Store" on it. He blushed a little as he handed it to him, and Finn understood why when he looked inside.

"Perfect 10 and Playboy?" He asked, his eyes wide. "Oh my god you are my best friend ever!" He shouted, wrapping his arms around George again, and trying not to crush him this time. "Thankyou thankyou thankyou!"

"You're welcome." George said, sounding amused. "Also, I can never go into Mr. E's ever again now."

"I appreciate your sacrifice."

After George, the last visitors of that week were Finn's Mom and Burt. Burt managed to speak pleasantly to Finn for about 10 minutes, before leaving him and Carole to catch up by themselves while he went to speak with Finn's private therapist, Peter Dish. He was the therapist who dealt with the patients who had sexual related disorders.

"Hello there Mr. Hummel." Pete said, sitting across from Burt in his office. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Yeah, it's real pleasant." Burt mumbled, looking around the therapists office. There were a lot of certificates on the walls, as well as several pictures of people he guessed were his friend's and family. On his desk was a picture of a grinning, toothless toddler. The same toddler appeared on the wall a few times, along with Pete and another smiling man. "Is that um, in the picture, um-" He mumbled, gesturing to the family portrait.

"My husband and daughter?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. Burt nodded, and Pete smiled. "Yes, it is."

"Right. Uh, good for you."

"Yes, it is very good for me." He replied, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice. "Now, as much as I do love talking about my daughter and husband, I get the feeling you have something slightly more relevant to discuss."

Burt cleared his throat. "Yeah, uh, it's about Finn obviously." He took his baseball cap off his head and began fiddling with it. "About what to do when he leaves here. Obviously he can't live with us." Burt raised his eyebrows, daring Pete to disagree with him.

Pete nodded. "Yes, that wouldn't work for a number of reasons. Do you have any relatives, he could live with perhaps?"

"I dunno, actually. I know Carole's Mom lives about a half-hour away, but I know she and Carole don't really get along."

"Well, you may want to look into re-building that bridge then. However, group-housing is always an option, and of course Finn could always live on his own in an apartment. If you'd be willing to support him in at least a partial manner, he could even finish highschool in a fairly timely fashion."

Burt gritted his teeth. He knew Carole would hate the idea of Finn living in some sort of "group housing," but Burt really didn't like the idea of supporting him any more than he already did. So far Carole's Mom seemed like the best option.

"How long do you think we have though, before he'll get out?"

"Oh at least another few months or so. And even then Mr. Hummel-"

"Burt."

"Burt. Even when we've decided that he's ready to be back out in society, he could remain an out patient at the hospital for up to a year."

"What would that mean?"

"Well, he would continue to live here just like he does now. The only difference would be he would be allowed to leave during the day go to school, possibly get some-sort of part time job. He would have a curfew of course, 9:00 pm on weekdays and 11:00 on the weekends. If he does get a job, any income he makes can either be managed by you or the hospital, whichever you choose."

Burt nodded. "Alright. He can do that for a year?"

"Or longer, if necessary. We don't want to rush anything." Pete explained.

"Okay...well, it's good to know we've got some time." He placed his cap back on his head. "Just, in your opinion- do you really think he's better?"

"Burt, I wouldn't be telling you he could leave in a few months if I thought he was still a danger."

"No, I know but I mean-" The cap was back in his hands. "Carole wants us to be a family again. She hasn't said anything, she wouldn't, but I know she does." Burt made a noise that was halways between a scoff and a laugh. "Is that even possible? I mean, I just-" he shook his head. "I just don't know."

Pete bit down on his lip a little, and cast a glance down at the picture on his desk, the one of his daughter. "It's a..._difficult _situation." He said carefully. Difficult was one word for it, sure. As much confidence as he had in Finn, and as sorry as he knew the boy was, he couldn't not see it from Burt's perspective. From a father's perspective. If someone hurt his kid- hell, he was surprised Finn was still alive. "I suppose it all depends on Kurt, and his reaction to Finn. And honestly, without meeting him I couldn't say what that reaction will be."

Burt sighed, and once again put his base-ball cap back on his head. "I guess we'll find out soon enough."

* * *

"And then he was all 'zomg Michael's kissing a dude!'" Paige exclaimed, lowering her voice in a terrible impression of George. Carole smiled at her. "And then Finn was all 'yeah he does that now.'"

"I sound _nothing _like that." Finn mummbled.

"You sound exactly like that. Anyways then Michael was all 'oh yeah hi George this is Marcel, I basically love him-'"

"Ok, _I _sound nothing like that." Michael called over from the couch. "And all your impressions of us sound the same. And not like us. So...stop."

"'I'm Michael, herp derp I like reading and TV and Marcel and I hate everything else a-derp!'" Paige said, crossing her eyes awkwardly. Finn and Carole burst out laughing, and even Marcel began to giggle a little.

Michael glared at him. "You can find somewhere else to sit, if you're going to encourage her."

"But your lap is the comfiest." Marcel pouted, snuggling against Michael chest.

Michael sighed. "Yeah, fine whatever."

Burt came out then, and Carole said good-bye, promising Paige that the next time she came to visit, she would bring her cookies. Before they left however, they told Finn about one more visitor, who would be coming to see him on the weekend.

* * *

**A/N: Paige's sisters name is pronounced Die-Na.**

**And OH GOD I WONDER WHO IS VISITING FINN IN THE NEXT CHAPTER!**

***Quote from Pulp Fiction.**

**Also, any opinions expressed by the characters are their opinions and not mine. For example, I secretly like While you were sleeping and He's just not that into you. OK, the opinion on the cookie cutter gays is mine, but they were awful. **

**Also, Marcel's opinion on sex is basically the exact opposite of mine. I think way too much emphasis is placed on penetration. And in the words of Debbie Gallagher "penetration isn't required for sex to occur."**


	29. Chapter 27

Chapter 27:

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Blaine asked. "We can always leave."

"No. I'm not sure." Kurt said, reaching for Blaine's hand. Blaine took it, and Kurt stepped forward, pressing the buzzer on the door to be admitted.

"Yes?" A voice crackled through the intercom. "Who is it?"

"Uh, Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson. We're here to see Finn." Kurt said, pleased at how steady he was able to keep his voice, although he was pretty sure it had wavered a bit on "Finn."

"One moment." The voice said.

"Say something reassuring." Kurt mumbled, his heart tugging a little in his chest while he waited for the women to open the door.

"Everything's going to be fine, you're the bravest, most amazing person I know and we can leave the second you want too." Blaine said, lifting up their clasped hands and placing a small kiss on his knuckles, which were admittedly a little white. "Also, I love you."

Kurt smiled numbly, as the intercom crackled once again.

"Alright, you can come in." It said, and they heard a clicking sound as the door unlocked.

Kurt reached forward and pulled the heavy door back, revealing a tiny waiting area where a woman whose name tag read "Eleanor" handed them each a few forms to fill out from behind a caged area.

"What's this?" Blaine asked, reading the form over.

"A waiver. Protects the hospital incase you have an incident with one of the patients." Eleanor replied, typing something up on a computer screen they couldn't see.

"I don't think we should sign this..." Blaine said, glancing at Kurt.

"Too late." Kurt replied, handing his form back to Eleanor. Blaine sighed, and quickly filled his out as well.

"Alright, try to not to engage in fights with any of the patients or let them provoke you. Try to avoid eye contact with most." Eleanor said in a monotone voice. She tapped on her keyboard, and the door on the other side of the little area opened.

"You ready for this?" Blaine asked, opening the door slowly.

"Not at all." Kurt said, smiling shakily.

On the other side of the door, Finn was waiting for them. Kurt almost fell over as a water board of emotions smacked him in the face. Terror, panic, nausea, a desperate desire to turn around and run, pain and a small disgusting stab of longing for his former tormentor. He gripped Blaine's hand tightly, and fought back against the desire to flee, stepping further into the room.

Finn was standing with his hands shoved into his pockets, and he had a small, awkward smile on his face. He was nervous, obviously. Somehow knowing that made Kurt feel a little better.

Kurt stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to say or how to begin. What's the proper greeting when reuniting with the person who'd spent months raping and abusing you? Kurt found himself wondering if Miss. Manners or Martha Stewart had ever published anything on the topic. Or Oprah, perhaps.

Unfortunately, even if all three women had published in depth information on the proper etiquette for such a situation, it would have been completely unhelpful to Kurt, who did not have such information currently with him. He was on his own, and since Finn seemed to be waiting for him to say something, he decided to man-up and get it over with. He went simple. "Hello."

Finn swallowed, his unsure smile flickering a bit. "Hi, Kurt." He said, forcing himself to look at him. They made eye-contact, and Kurt had to do a double take. The eyes he was looking into now were so different from the ones he'd expected, the ones who'd looked into his as he forced him to take off his clothes and kneel in front of him. Those eyes had been cold, dark and demanding. They'd glinted and shone with a terrifying emptiness that Kurt could still feel cooling in his chest when unremembered nightmares woke him up late at night.

Those eyes were nothing like the fragile, nervous brown ones in front of him. These eyes were worried, and afraid. Afraid of what, he didn't know.

There was a small coughing sound to Finn's right, and Kurt moved his gaze past Finn and saw a small wide eyed girl standing next to him, hands placed calmly in the back pockets of her jeans as she waited for Finn to introduce her.

"Oh, right. Uh, this is Paige." Finn said, and the girl smiled brightly at him. Her black ponytail bobbed up and down as she bounced over to shake his hand.

"Oh I should have known!" He exclaimed. "I've heard so much about you from George."

"Really? George talks about me?" She asked, sounding thrilled.

"All the time." Blaine commented, shaking Paige's hand as well. "He's quite taken with you."

Paige squealed a little, and bounced back over to Finn. "Didja hear that, he's _taken _with me." She poked Finn on the arm a few times, and he swatted her away.

"Duh." Finn mumbled.

Kurt gripped Blaine's hand a little bit tighter. This was all so strange. It was unreal. He had to be dreaming. He was not standing here, talking pleasantly to the boy who used to torture and humiliate him. He wasn't watching him have a sweet interaction with some adorable wood-nymph girl. It was all too normal. Kurt wasn't sure what he'd been expecting to find here, but it sure as hell wasn't "normal." Where were all the crazy people he'd been told lived here?

Said wood-nymph girl was now looking at him with a thoughtful smile. "We should probably let them go talk." She said to Blaine. Blaine looked over at Kurt with a questioning eye-brow raise. Kurt's first instinct was to say "fuck no" and clutch Blaine closer to him, but the logical-rational part of his head was agreeing with Paige. He did need to talk to Finn, and he'd known that when he'd come here. Still, he wasn't entirely thrilled at the idea.

Paige grabbed Blaine's wrist. "Come on, I'll go introduce you to Michael and Marcel." She went to lead Blaine away, but Finn grabbed her arm and stopped her.

"No fucking way." He said, shaking his head.

His friend raised an eyebrow. "You don't think you should talk?"

"No, no not _that _of course we should talk." Finn said, exasperated. "I mean no fucking way are you taking _him_," he jerked his thumb at Blaine, "Over to _Marcel._"

"_Oh." _She said, glancing over to an area across the room with a TV and a couch with two boys seated on it, cuddling together. "But he's _with _Michael right now. He won't do anything in front of him."

Kurt couldn't see very well from where he was, but judging from the way one boy was sitting in the other's lap, resting his head against his chest, he got the idea that they were more than "with" each other for the moment. He glanced at Blaine, who had come to a similar conclusion. "If he's 'with' Michael, why would he do anything at all?" Blaine asked.

Finn frowned. "Well, he doesn't mean to exactly. He just, can't really seem to help himself." Kurt nodded, thinking of Jake. He guessed that meant that Marcel was...like him. "Honestly though I don't know how Michael handles it. It's got to be killing him."

Kurt bit his lip and glanced at Blaine. "Well I guess he just understands that he doesn't mean it, and it's different."

"He does." Blaine said, kissing him on the cheek. "Also, he's a superhero."

Finn looked confused. "What?"

Paige rolled her eyes. "Michael and Marcel are like alternate universe Blaine and Kurt, Finn-head."

"Oh." He frowned and folded his arms across his chest. "Um, I guess since we do need to talk, you can go show Blaine around- but _do not_ let him out of your sights for 30 seconds. Don't let him get to close to Lina or Marcel. And keep him away from that new kid, just 'cause I don't trust him. He's shifty."

Paige nodded and saluted. "Yes sir, Finn sir." She smiled and Blaine and motioned for him to follow her as she walked over to where the boys, theoretically "Michael and Marcel" were sitting on the couch.

"Hey, Robbie." Finn called over to a cute blond guy in scrubs. "We're going in there." He said, pointing to a door leading off from the room they were in. Robbie nodded and jogged over, going through a door next to the door they were heading into.

"Private visiting rooms." Finn explained, leading him inside. "There's a two way mirror inside, to they can watch us."

Kurt nodded. The visiting room was small, with just a table and a few chairs set up. Finn took a seat in one of them, but Kurt hesitated and remained standing. He turned to Finn, glancing quickly at what appeared to be a dark glass mirror behind him.

He thought back to that quick jab of longing he'd felt when he'd saw Finn for the first time. Was that just left-over from all that had happened between them, or did he really still feel for him like that? He had to know.

If he was being truly honest with himself, that was the main reason he'd needed to see Finn in the first place. Before he could have sex with Blaine, he needed to make sure there was none of Finn left in him.

Finn looked nervous, almost as if he could tell what he was about to do. He took a step forward, and Finn shrank back in his chair. "W-what are you doing?" He asked, sounding so timid and afraid that Kurt almost backed off. But no, he had to.

"I just need to see." He said quietly, moving into Finn's lap. Finn went rigid, but he didn't push him off. Didn't touch him at all. Instead he nodded, and leaned in.

Their lips met, and Kurt's first thought was how very unfamiliar this kiss felt. Finn's kiss had always been so needy, so hungry- this kiss was soft, light. It didn't try to take a thing from him. Finn was kissing him back, but so cautiously that Kurt barely remembered it was Finn he was kissing. It almost felt like another person. The lips were the same, but the person behind them was a stranger. Or perhaps, he was a person he'd known a long time ago.

They broke apart slowly, their minds both racing and their eyes searching each other's. Kurt slowly removed himself from Finn's lap, and leaned against the table.

"Did you...did you feel anything?" Finn asked quietly

Kurt swallowed, and glanced at his step-brother. Slowly, he felt a wide smile spread across his face. "No." He choked, relieved tears blurring his vision. "Nothing."

Finn smiled too, and nodded. "Me neither. You have no idea what a relief that is."

Kurt laughed, and sat down across from Finn. "I think I do."

Finn wiped away his own tears. "Right, no of course you do." He muttered, the smile disappearing. He was looking down, and Kurt had a feeling that the tears which were falling from his eyes now were no longer happy ones. He looked up, his face red and contorted. "Kurt, I just- I need to say this, ok, but I can't just say it." He'd pressed the heel of his palm against one eye, keeping them closed as he spoke. "I need you to know what I mean when I say it. Because I say it all the time, and no one ever knows." He took his hand away, opening his eyes but focusing on the floor instead of Kurt. "Well, Paige and my Mom, I think they know what I mean. And that's good, but I need _you _to know. I need you to know all the regret and the pain I feel about what- what I did to you. I need you to know how much I _hate _myself for what I did. How much I'm going to _keep _hating myself for what I did, because I know no matter how much better I get, or how bad I feel, I can never, ever take it back." Slowly, he lifted his head up and forced himself to make eye-contact. His face was wet from his tears and his eyes were surrounded by angry red circles. "I need you to know that when I say I'm sorry, that's really what I mean. Not just that I'm sorry, but all of that and everything else I don't know how to say." He swallowed painfully, his eyes so full of hopeless begging that Kurt felt a stab of some pitying emotion in his chest. "Do you, I mean, do you get what I mean? I'm not asking for forgiveness," his lips twitched at a bitter, self-disgusted smile. "But I need to know that you know that I'm sorry, and what that means."

Kurt sucked in his breath. It was a lot to take in, but even if Finn hadn't just tried his hardest to tell him, he would have known. It was in his eyes, all of it- the pain, the suffering, the hate and above all the regret- it was all wallowing pitifully behind his red-circled eyes.

Staring into those eyes, Kurt had the feeling that George had been right. The brown-eyed boy in front of him wasn't the angry psychopath who'd fucked him up against a wall, but his awkward and well-intentioned step-brother, resurrected from the cold ether in which he'd be buried.

Still, no matter who he was now, the shadow of everything he'd done still clung to him. And it always would. His eyes told Kurt that he knew that.

Kurt nodded. "I know." He said, hoping Finn could see it in _his _eyes that he meant it. "I know."

* * *

"What do you think they're talking about?" Blaine asked, not directing the question to anyone in particular. He was sitting in a white plastic chair next to the couch where the boys Paige had said were named Michael and Marcel were seated. He'd figured out that Marcel was one sitting on Michael's lap, who kind of looked like a smaller version of a Abercrombie and Fitch model. Michael was almost the opposite, rugged where Marcel looked clean-cut, broad where Marcel was slim. If you'd expect to find someone like Marcel partying in a club, or shopping at a mall, then at the same time you'd expect to see Michael pitching bails of hay on a farm. He was even wearing flannel.

Finding these two cuddling quietly on a couch in a mental ward had seemed more than odd at first. However, it had taken Blaine about 10 minutes to realize that "odd" was a relative term here.

"They're not _talking._" Marcel said, not bothering to look at Blaine. He seemed focused on Michael chest, and was tracing wide circles over it with his finger. "They're probably fucking."

Paige scoffed. "First of all, no. Just, so much "no." Second of all, even if not for the previously stated no-ness of the situation, those rooms are monitored."

"How closely, do you think?" Michael asked, glancing over at Blaine. He looked entirely indifferent to the matter.

Paige hesitated. "...Probably closely."

She sounded extremely unsure.

"They're not doing anything besides talking, and possibly crying, I'm sure." Blaine said firmly. He was %100 sure.

Michael raised an eyebrow at him, and the smallest look of pity flashed across his face.

He was %99 sure.

"Face it, your boyfriend basically has 'fuck me roughly' stamped on his ass." Marcel muttered.

"Shut up." Blaine snapped, gritting his teeth. "Don't you dare talk about Kurt like that."

This seemed to capture his attention, and he sat up in Michael lap, leaning over to look at Blaine. His eyes blazed with questionable emotions. "Really? I don't _dare _talk like that?" He asked, sounding amused. "Look, Prep School, I can recognize a fellow fuck-puppet when I see one, ok? Now you can hide inside your trust-funded glass box all you want, and tell yourself that he's hiding with you and it's enough, but deep down you know that Finn will always have a part of him you can't even touch."

He was practically out of Michael's lap now, and the taller boy pulled him back in, wrapping his arms securely around him. He murmured something in his ear, and Marcel seemed to relax back against him. He went back to ignoring Blaine, and fixated once again on Michael's chest.

Blaine didn't know how to respond to any of that, and he felt a little stunned. Michael cast another pitying look at him. "He doesn't mean that." He explained.

"Do too." Marcel mumbled.

"No, you don't. And it's irreverant anyways, because it's not true."

"Irrelevant." Marcel corrected.

Michael blinked. "What did I say?"

"Irreverant." Marcel smiled a little, brightening up his already good-looking features. Blaine knew he probably would have thought more of Marcel's looks if he didn't want to punch him so much.

Michael shrugged. "Close enough. Besides, point stands, s'not true. Finn took something from Kurt, sure, but that's different than owning a part of him."

"Exactly." Paige said, nodding. She put her hand on his, smiling reassuringly. "All Finn had was stolen goods. No real ownership. You're holding the deeds."

Blaine nodded. He knew it was true, but hearing it from someone else was nice.

* * *

"Finn, can we be frank here?" Kurt asked, placing his hands on the table.

"Well, I don't know. I mean, I kind of like being Finn."

Kurt raised his eyebrows, and Finn ducked his head. "Sorry, that's Paige's influence there. Also, I really don't like being Finn very much, so it was a double-dumb thing to say..." he mumbled.

Kurt sighed. "It's fine. But can we?" Finn nodded. "Alright, so I'm just going ask some questions, and be as blunt as I need too. And you can do the same, ok?" Finn nodded again, but he looked apprehensive.

"First, why. Why did you do it and why me?"

Finn's head darted up, his eyes panicked. "I- I don't, I mean I can't-"

"Fuck that. You've got some reason. Maybe it's a shit one, maybe it makes no sense, maybe it won't help me at all, I don't care. You've got _something _and I want to hear it." Kurt narrowed his eyes, and Finn looked at him helplessly. "You're answer can be as blunt as needed, as well."

Finn sighed. "I've basically spent the last 7 months trying to figure out _why _I did it. I still don't know- I was fucked up, angry and weak. And I just let myself give in to that anger and weakness, I guess. It's hard to remember, actually, exactly what I was thinking and feeling- it doesn't feel like me anymore." His eyes began filling with tears again. "It feels like someone else, some fucking monster doing all that- that _stuff _to you. Because _I _could never have done that." He shook his head bitterly. "But I did, I know. I know."

Kurt nodded. He guessed that would have to do. He wasn't sure exactly what he was hoping to gain from this, not at all. He knew Finn couldn't explain why he'd done it, not really. There was no logical explanation for something like that. Still, he wanted to hear more. "Why me?"

Finn sighed, and put his elbows on the table. "You want me to be honest, right?"

Kurt nodded.

"Well, at first you were just sort of..._there_." He cringed apologetically, and Kurt's mouth went a little dry. He realized that up until now he'd been holding onto some sub-concsious belief that Finn had been secretly in love with him or something. "I needed comfort, I guess and you were willing to give it. It was convenient."

"Convenient? I was _convenient_ for you?" He asked, arching his shoulders angrily. He knew he'd asked for this; had wanted Finn to be honest. It didn't make it easier to hear.

"I'm so sorry." Finn said pathetically. "But in the beginning, that's what it was."

"And then?"

Finn bit his lip, and looked away. "I think after a while, I started to hate you." He looked at him, eyes full of that pitiful sorrow. "I hated how beautiful you were, how sweet you were. I treated you like shit, even before things got really bad. And you just wanted to help me. And I just wanted to get off, and forget for a little. You were sweet and kind, and smart and- and innocent and it just pointed out everything I _hated _about myself. So I hated you. And I wanted to ruin you."

"Mission accomplished." Kurt muttered, wiping hot angry tears off his cheeks.

Finn lurched forward in his seat, and grabbed his hand. Kurt was too startled to take it away. "Don't say that." He said, his voice choking with tears. "Please don't say that. It's not true. You _know _it's not true."

"How do _you _know?" He asked, almost frightened at the darkness in his own voice.

"Because it can't be. It _can't be_." He pleaded "You've always been so strong Kurt, so much stronger then me. Please, tell me I didn't- I couldn't have." He shook his head. "I couldn't have."

He sighed. Part of him wanted to say "_well tough shit, you did_" just to spite him, even if he didn't necessarily think it was true anymore.

He said nothing though, because there was a small part of him that wanted to reassure Finn, and tell him to stop crying. He hadn't ruined him, it was fine.

But it wasn't fine. He might be a lot better now, he might be doing really well, but the truth was it could never be fine. So the fact that he wanted to tell Finn that it was, to make him feel better...it scared him.

So he said nothing.

* * *

"What's his deal, anyways?" Blaine mumbled, glaring across the room at Marcel and Michael. They seemed be have a very intense conversation.

"Marcel?" Paige asked, looking over at them with a pitying expression. "Well, from what I know he was kidnapped and chained up and raped and beaten and-"

"Ok, ok I get the idea." Blaine mumbled. "Great, now hating him is hard."

She nodded. "Yeah. He can be difficult, but he's got a sweet side too. It just gets burried under his sexual compulsions."

Blaine nodded. That sounded familar. He frowned, not really wanting to compare Kurt to Marcel. He did not agree with Paige's previous assment. He and Kurt were in no way an alternate universe version of those two. "I guess I should cut him some slack then."

"I know it' hard, but Michael's right. He doesn't mean what he says."

"A lot of people here don't." A tired look asian girl said, coming over to their table. "The truth can be difficult."

"But there's hope for everyone." Paige said, giving the girl a wide smile.

The girl smiled wryly back. "I guess so."

* * *

Kurt and Finn stared at each other wordlessly across the table.

Slowly, Kurt was beginning to realize that they weren't going to be able to reconcile everything in this one visit. He wasn't going to get all the answers he wanted. He wasn't even sure there were answers.

He hadn't even realized he'd thought they could solve everything with this one visit until he knew they couldn't, but now that he had it dawned on him that he'd been thinking of this moment as the end of something. He wasn't sure what he'd thought it would be the end of- his nightmares, perhaps. His fear. The end of Finn being the first thing that came to mind when he went to touch himself. The end of crying and self-hate. The end of his long, exhausting recovery.

He hadn't known it, but something in him had thought it would all be over after the grand finale, the dramatic climax where he and Finn met again for the first time in months and had a bittersweet, yet touching reconciliation.

It wasn't going to work like that.

He looked up and back into Finn's eyes, and wondered if Finn was thinking the same thing.

Finn looked away, breaking their eye contact and at the same time, their silence. "I- I haven't even started yet, have I?" He asked.

"Started what?" Kurt asked, although he had a fairly good idea of what Finn meant.

"Making things right." He whispered. "Or, as right as they can be. All this time I've been in here, trying to get better and I haven't even gotten to the hard part."

Kurt nodded slowly. Finn was right. The hard part was still coming. It would be coming when he left here, and tried to work his way back into the real world. Work his way back into their lives. Into his life.

"I think you have..." He said slowly. "Started, at least. Coming here, getting help. It was a start."

Finn's eyes stayed on his. "The problem with starting something is, you usually have to finish it."

Kurt raised his eyebrows. "That's a problem?"

"What if I can't? What if I've worn myself out already? I think I've proven in the past that as far as strentgh goes, I don't have much of it."

He hadn't broken eye-contact yet, but his eyes had taken on a far away quality to them, like he wasn't really seeing Kurt in front of him, but the long and painful journey he was going to have to make, back to the real world. Kurt could practically see him giving up already.

No fucking way. He'd had to do it, and like fuck if Finn was gonna get out of it.

"That was then." He said firmly. The sound of his voice seemed to snap Finn back to the now. "You want to prove to me you're sorry? Giving up now doesn't show me that. I've had to find a lot more strength in myself then I ever wanted to this past year. Now it's your turn."

The corner's of Finn's lips twitched up a bit, and he nodded. "Alright." He said simply. He looked almost grateful.

* * *

Eventually they'd talked about everything they could think to talk about for now. Nothing was different, nothing was solved but somehow they both felt better. They'd met again, and it had gone fairly well. It hadn't been easy (nothing ever was) but they could do it.

They left the private room together, and found two boys waiting on the other side of the door. It took Kurt a moment to recognize them as the ones who'd been by the TV before- Michael and Marcel. The taller boy (he looked more like a Michael than the other, so Kurt was going to take a chance and assume that was who he was) had his arms wrapped protectivly around the smaller one's waist (theoretically this would be Marcel then).

Kurt had to say he was surprised by how very good-looking Marcel was. His jaw was chiselled, his nose was small and straight and his lips looked painfully soft. And there was something in his eyes, something dark, and strong- but scared, that seemed to be trying to pull him in.

"Hi." The smaller boy said, offering a small smile. The other just nodded.

"Uh, Hi."

"I'm Marcel." The boy stuck out his hand, and Kurt shook it.

Kurt smiled, and nodded. "I'm Kurt."

"We know." Michael said dully. Kurt paused a little, letting go of Marcel's hand. It was just occuring to him that if George had known everything about him, then it was likely that everyone here knew as well. They all knew what Finn had done to him.

He suddenly felt very trapped.

"Alright well this is nice and all, but Kurt and Blaine have places to go that are far away from here so-" Finn jumped in, seeming to sense how uncomfortable Kurt was.

"Yes, we do." Blaine said, coming over from where he had been sitting with Paige. He came and put his arm around Kurt's waist, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

"Oh." Marcel said quietly. He bit his lip and gave Kurt a funny look. "I was sort of hoping that I could talk to you or something."

"No." Finn said instantly, taking a small step between them. Blaine raised an eyebrow. "That's a bad idea."

"Why?" Michael asked, narrowing his eyes at Finn. "He can talk to him if he wants."

"I think you know why it's a bad idea." Finn said. He glanced at Marcel, who was doing a very good impression of a kicked puppy dog, complete with wide innocent eyes and a trembling lower lip. "Look I'm sorry dude, but I don't think you can pretend I'm not totally justified here."

"I know you are. But I promise I won't touch him." Marcel said. He turned to Kurt. "I promise, I won't."

"Uh, I can't believe I'm saying this-" Blaine cut in. "I mean, I really can't- but I sort of agree with Finn." He cringed.

"That's awesome for you." Michael said. "But it's not actually up to you. Or Finn. Or me. It's up to them." He glanced down at the boy in his arms, and gave him a small smile. Marcel gave him a grateful one back, before turning back to Kurt, who was still frankly a little shocked at Finn's attempts to "protect" him. Something about that just wasn't computing.

"Will you talk to me? Just for a bit? Please?" He asked, his eyes wide and pleading.

Kurt bit his lip, and glanced at Blaine. He didn't know why, but he sort of wanted to talk to him. He nodded.

Marcel nodded too, smiling. "We could go in there." He said quietly, gesturing to the private room they'd just come out of.

"No. No way. That's a bad, bad idea." Finn said, shaking his head. He looked at Marcel. "If you two are gonna talk, I want it to be some place Michael can keep a firm hold on you."

Instantly, Michael took his arms away from Marcel and stepped back. "Fuck you." He snapped. "He doesn't need to be kept on some leash and I won't do that."

"Michael, I mean he's got a point." Marcel said quietly.

Michael glared at Finn. "Fuck that." He put his hand on Marcel's shoulder. "You're a person, Mars, and you're gonna do what you want." He said, raising his eyebrows. He looked back at Finn, and gritted his teeth. "Got it?"

"Look, Marcel I don't know you very well." Blaine said, trying to ease the tension. "But I do know Kurt, and I trust him. So I know nothing is going to happen."

"No, that's not what I'm worried about." Finn said. He looked at Kurt. "I'm not worried about you doing something with him. I'm worried about him trying something on you."

"Just so you know, I'm not legally responsible if I punch you right now." Michael growled, his fists curled up into tight balls.

"Look, he says he won't try anything and I believe him. So does Michael." Kurt said. "And if he does, I'm sure I can take him, ok?"

"He's stronger then he looks." Finn insisted.

"So is Kurt." Blaine replied. Kurt smiled at him.

"So it's settled." Kurt said, grabbing Marcel's wrist. "We're going to talk, and you're going to wait out here and see who has the most macho glare."

"Oh that's Michael." Marcel said, grinning at him. "Hands down." Michael grinned sheepishly back, as though he'd said something incredibly romantic.

Blaine shrugged. "I prefer to maintain that I'm a lover, not a fighter."

"I try to be neither." Finn mumbled. Paige (Kurt wasn't even sure when she'd joined them) gave him a one armed hug.

Blaine stepped away from Kurt as he and Marcel disappeared back into the room. He glanced at Michael. "Do you really trust him not to try anything?"

"I never said I did." Michael said with a shrug. Blaine gaped at him. "What? He's been through a lot, stuff neither of us can imagine. I'm not going to hold the way he is against him."

"How can you not trust him?"

"I never said I didn't trust him. But whether or not he'll try something I don't know. What I do know is no matter what he does, or who he does it with, it won't mean the same thing as anything he does with me." He shrugged. "That's what I trust."

* * *

Inside the room, Marcel and Kurt were sitting side by side on the edge of the table, their bodies turned slightly to face the other.

Marcel was glancing away from Kurt, his arms wrapped around his chest. "I know it's probably weird for me abduct you like this, but I just- I don't know. No one else really knows..."

Kurt nodded. He knew.

"I mean, my friend Lina does I guess." He continued. "Her uncle raped her several times when she was younger, so she knows. But she doesn't like to talk about it. She won't, actually. She just shuts down. So I stopped bringing it up." He looked up slowly. "But I just...I need to. Talk about it."

"Isn't that what the therapists are here for?" Kurt said gently.

Marcel shrugged. "Yeah, but they don't understand. They just tell me how I should feel. They just tell me what happened and how I'm feeling about it. They don't know." He looked him in the eye. "I thought you might."

Kurt nodded again. "What did you want to talk about exactly?"

Marcel looked away again, and Kurt saw him tighten the grip he had on his own shoulders. Almost instinctively, Kurt moved closed and put his arm around him, pulling him in. Marcel stiffened for a moment, and gave him an assessing look before letting himself relax. "I was just wondering, if- when Finn left you, I mean. When he was gone did you-" He swallowed, and Kurt saw he was fighting back tears. When he spoke again, it was barely more than a whisper. "-did you miss him?"

Kurt felt himself stiffen for a moment, and he almost drew back. That wasn't something he wanted to talk about. Hell, it wasn't something he wanted to think about. But he knew the answer. He didn't like it, but he knew it. "Everyday." He said quietly. "The first few months after he left, I missed him everyday."

Marcel nodded, focusing on the wall across from him. He was quiet for a few minutes.

"I miss them." He said quietly, his voice cracking slightly. "All of them."

* * *

"Dude, if you don't stop pacing, I'm going to smack you." Michael snapped.

It wasn't that he didn't feel bad for the guy- Kurt's boyfriend. Really, he did. But he'd been walking around back and forth back and forth since Marcel and Kurt had gone to talk, and it was getting on nerves he didn't even know he had.

"Sorry, sorry." He mummbled, taking a seat next to Paige. Michael just shook his head, going back to the show he was watching. Well, the show he was pretending to watch. Truthfully, he was almost as nervous as Kurt's boyfriend (he'd forgotten his name about 30 seconds after he'd heard it) but he was doing a much better job of hiding it.

It wasn't the fact that Marcel was possibly putting the moves on another guy right now (although he was pretty sure he wasn't- Kurt didn't seem like his type. Then again, he had to remind himself that _he _wasn't really his type either), but the fact that Marcel had needed to talk to someone who wasn't him that was bothering him.

It didn't make any sense. Marcel talked to people who weren't him all the time. He talked to Lina in private...although he was kind of thinking that Marcel and Lina's relationship might actually be slightly more physical than verbal. They always acted crazy intimate even when they were together in not-private (he didn't really consider anywhere in the bin public exactly) and Marcel was always slightly calmer after he'd been somewhere with her. It didn't seem to be harming him at all, so he never bothered to say anything.

So he had Lina, and his therapist, a few times Michael knew he'd confided in Finn...but something about this was different. He'd wanted to talk to Kurt because he thought there was something Kurt would understand that he wouldn't. And he knew that was true. Kurt would be able to talk to him, understand him and help him in a way that he just couldn't, and that was bugging him. He hated to think there was something Marcel couldn't tell him.

The boyfriend had started pacing again, and Michael sighed. He took 3 deep breaths and told himself that the boyfriend wasn't _trying _to piss him off, he was just nervous. He could understand that.

It was still annoying as fuck.

* * *

"_All _of them?" Kurt asked, his mind reeling. _Oh my god..._

Marcel nodded. "I know I shouldn't- shouldn't miss them. I mean, they abandoned me, they didn't want me anymore." He buried his face in his hands, and Kurt hugged him closer as he began to sob. "But I can't help it. I want them b-back." His shoulders heaved a few times as he tried to breath properly and get control over himself. "God, that's so fucked up, right?" He looked at him, lifting his tear-streaked face up from his hands. "I'm fucking nuts, huh?"

Kurt paused, trying to decide how to answer that. "Well," He began slowly. "Kind of. But hey, you're not being judged by anyone here." He smiled, and Marcel snorted, offering a meagre attempt at a smile in return. "After- after Finn left me, I was pretty fucked up too. I used to- used to think about him and touch myself. I used to _hurt _myself like he used to hurt me, and get off on it. On the pain." A dry lump was forming in his throat, and he swallowed painfully. "In fact, I didn't think I could get off without it."

"Me too." Marcel said suddenly, lurching forward a bit and grabbing his arm. "I get off on pain too. I can't help it. It's like they're parallel feelings now."

Kurt nodded. "Exactly. Like one doesn't exist without the other." He forced himself to smile. "But the thing is, they do. The good feelings...the _pleasure_ feelings," He said, his nose instinctively crinkling a bit at the word, "they exist by themselves too. And they're so much better when the pain isn't there. When you have someone touching you, softly, making you feel warm and good-"

"I know that too." Marcel said, beginning to sound a little frantic. "I- it's not _just _pain. That's not the only thing that does it for me. Soft caresses and strokes, and lips on your skin- fingers through your hair...I know how good all of that feels."

Kurt furrowed his brow, trying to understand. He'd _needed_ the pain to get off back then- or he thought he had. "How-"

"There were so many of them, and they were all so different." Marcel said, running his fingers up through his choppy black hair. "They all had different ways of doing things- different ways of getting me off..." His lip was trembling now. "So, so now it's like..._everything_. Everything makes me horny and it's just- just _all the time_, y'know?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I do."

"It feels like I've been ripped into 6 different people that are always screaming and crying and fighting with out each other, and the only thing they can agree about is wanting to fuck." He looked up at him, his eye tired and pleading. "I don't want to feel like this anymore. It's _over. _They left me, and they're not coming back. It's done and I want to be done with feeling this way." He shook his head angrily. "Fuck I mean they're _my goddamned_ feelings aren't they? I should be able to tell them what they can and cannot want."

"It doesn't work like that." Kurt said numbly, the strangest sense of _deja vu _beginning to dawn on him.

Marcel scoffed. "No, I need to sit around here, waiting for doctors to fix poor ruined me up. Bandage my broken psyche with medication and therapy."

"It doesn't work like that either." Kurt continued. "The doctors, the therapy and medication, even your friends here- they can all help you, help get you ok again, but in the end _you're _the only one who can put yourself back together."

"H-how?" He asked, beginning to cry quietly again.

"Well, a lot of it is just accepting the help being offered to you. Listening to what your therapist has to say, taking your medication and so on...but you also need to have the strength to believe that you can and will get better. And when you are, it won't be because of the doctors or anyone else. It will be because of you. Because _you _were strong enough."

"How do you_ know_?"

Kurt opened his mouth to answer, and as he did it occurred to him _why_ this conversation was giving him the strong sense of deja vu.

Because he'd had it before.

Not this conversation, exactly, but the crying, the confessions of self-disgust, the admissions of shame and perversion- the reassurances and comfort- they were all part of so many conversations he'd had in the past.

It as the same as when he'd first admitted to Dr. Sincere that he'd gotten off on what Finn had done to him.

The same as every time he'd told Claudia how perverted and broken he thought he was.

The same as all the times he'd cried in Blaine's arms, needing to be consoled.

It was all the same...only now he was on the other side, and it was _Marcel _who was crying in _his _arms.

Now he was the one telling him to be strong, the one consoling and comforting.

"Kurt?" Marcel said. "How do you know?"

Kurt looked down at the scared boy in his arms, and gave him a reassuring smile. "Because I did it."

* * *

When Marcel and Kurt came out, it looked like they'd both been doing a lot of crying (although Marcel looked like he'd been doing most of it). There arms were around each other, and Marcel was making Kurt promise he'd come back.

Kurt glanced at him for a moment, and Finn found himself holding his breath. Would Kurt come back? Would he really let them be in each others lives again?

Kurt looked back down at Marcel and smiled. "Of course I'll be back."

Out of the corner of his eye, Finn thought he saw Blaine flinch a little. Finn felt kinda bad for him- he knew that if he was in Blaine's place, he would have wanted Kurt to be done with him as quickly as possible.

"I mean, I never got a chance to see Paige's drawings." Kurt was saying, smiling at her. She just gave a wide smile back, but he knew the moment he and Blaine were gone, she was going to be jumping up and down screaming excitedly in his ear.

"And obviously, we still have a lot to work out." He continued, looking at him now. Finn nodded.

Michael went over to Marcel, who quickly unattached himself from Kurt and reattached himself to Michael.

In a second, Blaine was back by Kurt's side. Kurt smiled, and took Blaine's hand. "I think it's time to go." He said.

Finn nodded and went to walk them out. Before they left, Kurt paused in the doorway. He looked at him. "It was nice to see you Finn." He said quietly. Finn felt his stomach flip around inside of him. Kurt gave him a wry smile. "I missed my step-brother."

Finn didn't know if he wanted to cry or smile back. Both he guessed. "Yeah, me too."

Kurt smiled again, nodded once, and left.

Finn stared at the door for a moment. "I missed your step-brother, too" He mumbled to himself, before walking back over to be grilled by Paige.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, this was the chapter that would not be written. **

**I'm having a hard time thinking about how to wrap this up. I think I'm going to have two more chapters, each one only focusing on Kurt or Finn. To finish up their stories separately. **

**Also, just a reminder that the tired looking asian girl is Young, who was in the bin for being a compulsive liar. She's come so far. **

**I think I've forgotten to mention it, but anyone who cares about Marcel's character can read more about what happened to him in a story I have called "Marcel" (cuz creative titles are for losers...) **

**It'll follow him through being kidnapped, to getting rescued, to being in the bin and his relationship with Michael (and y'know, how that happened). It'll probably only be like 5-10 chapters, but they'll probably be long chapters. **

**I am aware that thats not really Glee fanfiction anymore, but I can't help it. I keep writing for him, and I needed someplace to put it all because he kept trying to take over this story. **


	30. Chapter 28: Finn

Chapter 28: Finn

Finn paced around Michael's room, concentrating on watching his feet move and trying to tell himself he wasn't nervous. It wasn't working. "This is awful..." He mumbled.

"Calm down dude." Michael said from his position on his bed. As usual, Marcel was lying in his lap, but he didn't seem to be paying attention to their conversation as his nose was stuck in the book he was reading. Michael was alternating between watching Marcel read, and watching Finn pace."This is supposed to be a _good _thing. Like graduation. It's not supposed to freak you out."

"I've been terrified of graduating since 9th grade." Finn replied, not ceasing his pacing.

"Uh, well then don't think about this like graduating, I guess." He leaned his head back on the wall behind him, shutting his eyes. "And can you _please _stop pacing around. It's making me nervous."

"Oh, am I making you nervous?" Finn asked, continuing to pace. "I'm _sorry_." He glared at him. "Trust me, no matter how nervous _you _are, I'm like 50 jillion times nervouser, alright? Cut me some slack."

"_What _are you so nervous about? I mean, it's not like you're being thrown back into your highschool classes. The point of starting your transition into out-patienting by going home is to ease you into it. It's not a huge deal."

"Yes it is." Marcel said, closing his book. He turned around looked at Michael. "Going home is the hardest part." He shook his head, and looked at Finn, who finally stopped moving around. "I don't even know if I could. Going back, seeing my room...if it was the way I left it, if things had changed..." He looked away, staring off into space. "I wonder if my Dad made my bed while I was gone."

"Exactly." Finn said. "That place, it's not my home anymore. It was my home when I was a _monster _and I don't want to go back to the place where I- where I did everything."

"I think you gotta." Michael said, wrapping his arms protectively around Marcel. "It's probably important for you're like recovery or whatever."

"Would you want _me _to go back?" Marcel asked, lying back against him.

"That _place _wasn't your home. And it's different. Finn's stuff happened in his _home _so he's gotta deal with it. You were taken _away _from your home." Michael said, his eyes darkening.

Instead of answering, Marcel just shifted onto his side against Michael's chest, and continued staring off into space.

"Michael's right." Finn said, reluctantly. "I mean, I know I have to go back. I just really, really don't want to."

"Can you say that again?" Michael asked, grinning.

"'I have to go back but I really really don't want to.'"

"I meant the other part."

"I know you did."

"Fine. Be a bitch." Michael grumbled. He looked down at the boy in his arms, noticing his eyes were closed. "Hey, woah what are you doing?"

"Sleeping. Shh." Marcel mumbled. He shifted around some more, trying to get comfortable.

"But...come on, I'm getting hungry. I was going to go get lunch soon." Michael protested. "Why don't you fall asleep on the bed, hmm?"

"I like sleeping on you. You're comfiest." Marcel said, already sounding half asleep. "Night night."

Michael sighed and looked at Finn. "Can you get me something to eat?"

"Just push him off you. He's small." Finn said, shrugging. Michael looked at him like he was crazy. "Fine, I'll get you food."

"Thanks." Michael said, and Finn turned to leave just as Sheila came in for checks.

"Just on my way out." Finn said, trying to scoot past her. She ignored him and looked at Michael and Marcel.

"Patients really aren't supposed to sleep on each other, you know." She said, crossing her arms. "Does he not have his own room?"

Michael shrugged a little. "He's got a weird thing about the beds here. He doesn't like the mattresses or something. So he sleeps on me." He frowned. "I think I might be getting used." In his sleep, Marcel took hold of Michaels arm and held onto it, like it was a teddy bear. Michael tilted his head to the side. "...I'm ok with it though."

Sheila shook her head. "You just remember, I come in here and catch you two doing something besides lying there _just once _and that's it. Done."

"I know." Michael said. "So does he."

"Uh, can I leave?" Finn asked, trying to get around Sheila.

She looked at him. "Aren't you going home today?"

He nodded. "My Mom's coming to get me soon."

She nodded, her face softening a bit. "Well, I know it's nerve-wracking, going home for the first time, but you'll do ok Finn. You're ready for this."

"Uh...thanks?" Finn said.

Sheila turned and left, and Finn shrugged at Michael before leaving himself. He went to the kitchen and got himself some food, then gathered together some things for Michael. He was taking them to him when Robbie stopped him. "Finn, your Mom's here." He said. "You should go out to her."

Finn frowned. "Can't she come in for a bit?"

Robbie shook his head. "They think it's best if patients go out themselves, as opposed to being taken out."

"Right. So...so I just leave?" Finn asked, beginning to feel panicky. The only times he'd left the bin were for free time outside (which he and Paige had only chosen to do about 4 times) and to visit other places in the hospital (like the medical ward). This was different. He was scared.

"Yeah, you just leave. But remember, you're coming back, alright? This is just like a test run, start getting you back out there." Robbie patted him on the arm. "It'll be fine."

Finn nodded. "Right. Test run. Got it." He looked at the food in his hands, and offered it to Robbie. "Can you give this to Michael for me? He's in his room and Marcel fell asleep on him, so he's trapped."

Robbie smiled and took the food from him. "Sure thing."

Finn took a deep breath, and walked out.

* * *

Finn wondered if the pounding in his chest was just nerves, or a heart attack. It felt like a heart attack. They should turn around, and go back to the hospital.

He was definitely having a heart attack. "Mom I'm-"

"You're fine sweetie, you're just nervous." She said soothingly, focusing on the road. Truthfully, she was nervous too, but she didn't want Finn to see that. He hadn't been home in almost a year, and she wanted this to go well so badly-

Why though? It wasn't as though Burt would ever allow him to move back in...

She swallowed, and told herself Burt had _more _then a valid reason for not wanting Finn back in the house. They couldn't do that to Kurt. No matter how much faith she had in her son's recovery, no matter how much she believed that he was _fine _now, she knew that what he had done to Kurt wasn't the type of thing you could put behind you.

But she and Burt were talking, and although he was against it right now, she thought he might be letting up on Finn staying with them every other weekend. They would need to talk to Kurt though, he would have the final say of course-

"Mom I can't do this!" Finn said suddenly, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Please, please take me back."

She sighed. "Finn, you can do this." She reassured him. "It's just our house."

"No, it's not my house. Not anymore. I don't live there."

"It's still your home." She said quietly.

Finn looked out the window. She was never going to understand. He closed his eyes, and tried not to cry. He told himself he had to do this- if for no other reason then because he deserved punishment, and this sure as hell felt like that's what this was.

But he knew he needed to do it for other reasons too...he needed to go back and confront what he'd done.

He dried his eyes on his sleeve, wondering if he was ever going to be finished confronting what he'd done. Probably not.

He remembered Michael telling them about the Holocaust a few weeks before- Tiffany had never heard of it. After he'd calmed down enough to be coherent again, he'd explained to her about Hitler, and the concentration camps, and all the suffering and pain. Tiffany hadn't wanted to hear any more, but he'd made her listen. He'd said they _had _to talk about it, had to remember what happened so it would never happen again. "Never again." He'd said.

Finn figured this was like that (not the Holocaust, but the remembering). He had to deal with it everyday, confront what he'd done every day, so he could make sure it would _never _happen again.

The house was empty when they arrived- Kurt had gone to Blaine's for the day, for some family thing, and Burt had just preferred not to be there.

He walked through the front door, and the first thing that struck him was how everything looked exactly the same. The quilt his mother had spent over a year knitting (only to declare she was never knitting anything ever again upon completion) was still draped over the back of the couch, the lamp on the end table still had the same bumble-bee print lamp shade on it that Kurt called kitsch. No one had bothered to replace the batteries on the cat shaped clock hanging by the door, and it was still stuck on 3:54 PM.

Everything was the same, as though he'd never left, and it was strangely painful. He guessed Marcel was right. This was the hardest part.

The house looked as though none of it had ever happened, and no time had passed. He could have just been coming home from school, having spent the day watching Mercedes battle Rachel for solos, while Kurt rolled his eyes in the background.

Forgetting his mother was with him, he made his way into the house and up the stairs.

_I wonder if they made my bed while I was gone..._

He stood in his room, and looked around. This had changed, but so little. Hardly enough to reflect the way the boy who'd used to live here had changed.

They had made his bed, and changed his sheets, and he remembered his mother telling him about how Kurt used to come in here.

He walked in, and put his hand on the wall he'd once shoved Kurt against, forcing him to beg to be fucked harder. The nail marks Kurt had clawed into the wall were still there. Of course they were, no one would have noticed them if they hadn't know what they were looking for.

He looked at the rug on the floor, where he'd jerked Kurt off so roughly the rug had rubbed away the skin on his back.

He couldn't say how he felt, but he supposed the best word would be numb. It was too much, like everything he'd done was being thrown back in his face and he didn't know how to handle it.

Before he let himself break down, he left his old room, and walked down the hall to Kurt's room.

This had changed the most. The comforter on the bed and the blinds were new, and so was the rug in the middle of the room. The cork board Kurt had used to plan out outfits was gone, and there were more books on the shelves.

He'd rearranged the furniture, his bed and desk had changed places now. Finn went over to the desk, and flipped open a notebook on it. He flipped to a page near the front, that had what looked like a poem on it. It was called "Lover Left."

My lover left me alone to die,  
Left me alone cold to cry.  
Bit me and left me as the blood flowed,  
Left me and took with everything he owed.

My lover left me, I wish he'd come back,  
I'd say it's alright, forget the attack.  
I'll heal when he holds me, it'll be alright then,  
As long as he promises to do it again.

They said it was wrong, they say he is bad,  
But when he left I still felt sad.  
Lover come back, come away from there,  
I need you with me again to make my body tear.

"What did I do to you, Kurt?" He whispered, letting the book shut. He turned around, and looked at the bed. The comforter was different, and so were the sheets but it was still the same bed, the place where he'd raped him for the first time. Right here.

He couldn't take anymore, and he fell to his knees and put his head in his hands. _Why, why why..._

For the first time in a long time, Finn turned his wrists over and looked at the scars he'd made.

The tears were falling from his eyes now, rushing out like they'd been saving themselves up behind his eyes, just waiting to get out into the cold air of Kurt's room. A few drops fell onto the dark scars he'd made and he just cried harder.

He heard his mother come into the room, and she put her hand on his shoulder. "Finn-?"

"Why, Mom?" He asked, sobbing into his hands. "Fucking _why?_"

"Why what, sweetie?" She asked.

"Everything. Why- why didn't I die?" He sobbed. "Why didn't Kurt _tell _anyone what I was doing? _Why did I do it?_"

"I don't know." She said, kneeling next to him and wrapping his arms around him. "I don't really think there are answers to any of those questions."

"But I just, how can I come back here? How can I- how could Kurt want anything but to see me dead? Don't I owe that to him? Don't I owe it to him to die?"

"Finn!" She said, getting upset now herself. "Don't you _dare _say that! Especially not now, after how far you've come! You have worked _so hard _to get better. Don't throw it away now."

Finn shook his head. "It doesn't matter how hard I work, or how much 'better' I get, none of it changes what I did. I can never change that, never make up for it." His shoulders slumped forward and his body heaved with dry sobs.

"Finn, you can't live your life hating yourself for one mistake-"

"Mistake!" He cried, looking at her. "Mom, this wasn't a _mistake. _A mistake is when you get drunk at a party and accidentally cheat on your girlfriend with that blond girl from Home Ec. There are _mistakes _and then there's what I did."

She just looked at him, and started to cry, and he felt awful for yelling at her. "No, Mom don't cry, I'm sorry." He put his arms around her, hugging her tightly.

She shook her head. "No, no you're right I shouldn't try and rationalize it by saying it was a mistake I just- it's hard sometimes, to think about. Because I love you Finn, and I always will but it's _so hard _to believe that my little boy did that." She looked at me. "Tell me the truth- is it my fault? Did I make a mistake somewhere, is there something else I could have done?"

He shook his head. "It was no one's fault Mom, except mine. It had nothing to do with you, or anyone else. I was selfish and pathetic, and I'm going to have to live with that I did for the rest of my life..."

She hugged him, and ran her fingers through his hair. "Maybe that's punishment enough then." She said quietly.

He smiled at her, thinking there would never be enough punishment. "Maybe."

After they finished their crying, his mother went downstairs to make lunch. Finn went back over to Kurt's desk, and picked up his notebook again. He turned it over in his hands, and lay down on Kurt's carpet.

He flipped through a little, not reading, just flicking the pages back over his thumb and feeling the air blow across his face as he cried.

He flicked through the book, watching the pages wizz by as though he expected them to tell him something, expected them to have some kind of answer. But his mom was right- there were no answers. Not for something like this.

His breath stuck in his chest for a moment as he sobbed, and he coughed. The book fell out of his hands, and fell closed on the floor. Finn wiped his eyes, and picked it up. He sat up on the carpet, crossing his legs under him, and flipped through it again, but slower this time.

He didn't read them, but he could see that most of the journal was diary entries and poems. As he flipped through, he noticed there were less and less poems towards the back. The diary entries got shorter as well, and there were more doodles in the margins.

He stopped on one diary entry, with little hearts doodled all around the page. Looking closely at a larger heart that Kurt scribbled out, he could vaguely make out the letters "B+K" written inside. He could almost see Kurt doodling it unconsciously, and scratching it out when he saw what he'd written, embarrassed at himself. He smiled.

For no real reason, he skipped to the last page in the journal. It was another poem. It was odd, because Finn knew he wouldn't have dared read one of the diary entries...but somehow the poetry felt less personal, as though it was meant in a way for someone else to read.

This poem was surrounded by little notes from Kurt, critiquing it. Most of them were along the lines of "WHEN DID BECOME THIS PERSON?" and "Oh god someone kill me."

It was a love poem.

'Love me, please love me' were my cries,  
Okay, said you from up above.  
Vast and deep was my surprise,  
Easy was your love.

Broken, I was when you found me.  
Lifted me up and set me free.

After everything you've loved me through  
I love you more than forever.  
No one could mean as much as you,  
Escape me will you never.

Finn almost cried at the poem, and the stupid little hearts doodled around it. It wasn't that it was so great, it wasn't, especially compared to some of his other poems. But it was the most beautiful poem he'd ever read.

* * *

After they'd finished their lunch, his mother asked him if he wanted her to take him back now.

He thought about it, and he shook his head. "Not yet." She looked surprised. "I have another stop I want to make."

His hands twitched as he walked through the door, and he tugged his jacket down further over his wrists, very conscious of the ugly scars there.

He walked down the hall, looking around at the place where he'd been so miserable. He'd used to come here every day, and now it felt incredibly foreign. This wasn't his school anymore. He smiled sadly.

He turned the corner, and spotted some familiar faces at the end of the hallway.

"Hey," He said, approaching Sam and Dave. He was surprised to see Dave's friend Azimio with them as well, especially considering Dave had his arm around Sam.

"Finn, fuck what are you doing here?" Sam asked, smiling widely. He moved out of his boyfriends grip and hugged him.

"Just visiting." He said. Dave smiled as well, and gripped his hand, pulling him in for a one armed "bro hug." Azimio nodded, looking incredibly surprised.

"Jeez Hudson, we thought you dropped off the earth! Were you really in a-" He began, but was cut off by Dave smacking him on the arm. "I mean- are you coming back to school here? 'Cause we could use you on the football team."

Finn laughed. "Yeah, how are you guys doing with me out me?"

"We'd be doing better if the quarter-back didn't spend all his time making eyes at the right guard." Azimio said, and Sam shoved him a little, tucking himself back under Dave's arm.

"So are you?" Dave asked. "Coming back?"

Finn shook his head. "Nah, like I said, I'm just here for a visit. I'm actually looking at going to this arts school about a half hour from here. They have a music program that seems cool."

"That's cool. Alright dudes, I gotta go to class." Azimio said. He bro-hugged Karofsky and nodded at Sam and Finn, and walked off down the hall.

Something occurred to Finn then. "Isn't it summer? Why are you guys here?"

Dave smiled. "Summer school. I failed calculus." He shrugged.

"I'm just here to hang out." Sam said. "When Dave goes to class, I'm headed to the choir room. Rachel and Tina have taken up residence there."

Rachel. "Oh, yeah?" He said. "That's...cool."

Sam shrugged. "Do you wanna go there? Say hi?"

Finn fiddled with the sleeve of his jacket, thinking it over. "Sure...why not."

Sam and Dave held hands as they walked down the hallway, and Finn smiled at them. "So, Azimio seems pretty cool with uh, you two." He commented.

Dave nodded. "Yeah. I mean, he kind of freaked out at first and I thought that was it for us, being friends or whatever. But one day a few douches from the hockey team were giving me a hard time, and Z comes over and he's all 'you better get the hell away from my bro or I'm gonna pound your faces into pudding!'"

"Pudding?"

Dave shrugged. "It was lunch time, I think he was hungry. Anyways, after the hockey guys left, I sort of mumbled thank you, and Z apologized for freaking out and said he still wanted to be my friend, even if I was a homo." Dave smiled fondly. "It was kinda touching."

Sam shook his head, and rolled his eyes at Finn. Obviously he didn't find this as touching as Dave did.

They reached the choir room, and Finn waited nervously outside while Sam and Dave announced his presence. "Hey guys, we have a visitor." Sam said cheerfully.

"It's not Jacob again, is it?" Rachel asked. "Because I'm running out of polite ways to tell him he has a terrible singing voice."

"Polite?" Tina questioned. "All you said last time was 'you have a terrible singing voice.'"

"Trust me, 'terrible' is a polite word for his singing voice."

"No, it's not Jacob." Dave cut in. He poked his head out, and motioned for Finn to come in.

Finn walked into the room, his hands shoved in his pockets. The choir room looked exactly the same as it always had.

"Oh my god!" Tina said, and rushed over to hug him. She stepped back a second later, flushed. "Sorry, I don't usually hug people." She mumbled. "Just got excited..."

Finn smiled. "It's ok, I like hugs."

He looked at Rachel, who was standing with her head down and her hand behind her back. "Hey Rachel." He said quietly. She nodded, but she didn't look up. "Rachel?" He repeated. She lifted her head up slowly, and looked at him. "Do you think we could talk, maybe?" He said.

She looked surprised. "Um, I supposed..."

They went out in the hallway, and for lack of anything else to do, started walking. "So- so are you out of the hospital now?" She asked.

He shook his head. "But I'm an out-patient now. That means I can leave during the day, go to school and stuff, but I'm still living there."

"Oh. Good."

"Rachel, I wanted to apologize to you." He said. She stopped walking and looked at him, once again surprised. "When you came to see me, the things I said to you- I'm sorry. What I did really was not your fault, at all. To be honest, I was angry and miserable for a long time before that. You and Puck were just like, the straw the broke the horses back or whatever. But if it hadn't been you, it would have been something else. It was my fault, and I shouldn't have treated you that way-"

She shook her head, tears forming in her eyes. "I lied!" She blurted, her face scrunching up as she cried. "I started dating Puck because I wanted to hurt you and I wanted you to be jealous. But then- but then he was really nice to me, and he needed me and I needed him and it just-"

He put his hand on her shoulder. "Hey, like I said, it's fine. It doesn't matter, and it doesn't change the fact that it wasn't your fault. And you know what, after a certain point it had nothing to do with you."

She sniffed, and then threw herself into Finn's arms. "Please don't try and kill yourself again Finn!"

He smiled, and hugged her. "I won't, I promise."

"Swear on all of Journey's discography!"

"I swear on all of Journey's discography." He said, putting his hand over his heart.

She looked satisfied, and stepped back. "Good." Her eyes went wide suddenly, and her gripped her hands together excitedly. "Are you coming back here? Because we could _really _use you. Sam and Puck have been taking all the male leads, and don't get me wrong they have lovely voices, but it's just not the same-"

Finn gave her a small smile and shook his head, beginning to walk back to the choir room. She pouted. "Why not?"

He shrugged. "I just- I don't feel like I belong here anymore, you know? Too much has changed. I think I gotta move on." She pouted, and he tried to distract her by bringing up a subject he knew she loved to discuss. "So, tell me about yourself. How have you been?"

She shrugged. "Alright. Puck and I decided to end things after New York. We've both been doing a lot of changing and growing this year, trying to find ourselves and we both decided we should be single while we do that. But I've gotten closer to Tina, which is nice. She's the first good friend I've ever really had."

He smiled. "That's good. What are you two doing here?"

"I'm helping Tina strengthen her voice and stage presence, and she's teaching me to play piano and have a less abrasive personality."

"That's...good, I guess. But you know you don't need to change, right?"

Rachel shrugged. "Not really." Finn opened his mouth to protest and Rachel laughed. "Finn _relax _I'm not trying to overhaul my personality, I just want to be a bit..._nicer,_ when it comes to my opinions and treatment of others."

He nodded. "Alright-"

"Finn come on we're going out to the field!" Sam said, walking towards them from the choir room. Dave and Tina were behind him, locking up the choir room door. "Dave's got an hour before class and we're gonna play some football."

"And by play football, he means we're going to toss the ball around and chase each other until we're tired." Tina clarified.

"Yup."

They went out onto the field, and Dave got a football from the locker room. "Rachel, heads up!" He yelled, spiralling the ball towards her. Rachel shrieked and ran away, hiding behind the bleachers.

Sam laughed. "Every time..."

"Come on Rache, grow a pair!" Tina called, running over and getting the ball. Rachel shook her head.

"Tina, pass it to me!" Finn called, feeling an unfamiliar lightness in his chest.

Tina took a moment to position her fingers correctly on the ball before chucking it towards him. It spiralled impressively, and he caught it. "Nice one!" He called, feeling a bit unreal. This was too strange- playing football with...he supposed they could be called his friends. After everything that had happened today, all the crying and the worry, it was nice to know there was something he could go back to that was good.

He turned and passed the ball to Dave, who caught it despite Sam's attempts to interfere. Sam tried to grab the ball from him, but Dave kept his arm out, blocking him. Sam then placed a quick kiss under Dave's ear, distracting him for a moment and giving Sam enough time to nab the ball.

Sam ran with the ball to the end-zone, where he threw it on the ground and declared a touch-down. On the bleachers, Rachel cheered, and Sam waved impressively.

"We're not even playing a real game!" Dave shouted, laughing.

"Says the non-touch down scorer!" Sam shot back.

Dave looked at him and rolled his eyes, and Finn smiled. "So you two are doing good?"

Dave shrugged, and looked at the ground. "I don't want to jinx it."

"I don't think it works like that." Finn said. "But alright. How are _you_ doing?"

"Uh, ok actually. I've been feeling better since we visited you." Dave smiled.

"Yeah?"

Dave nodded. "Yeah. I think it helped, seeing you doing ok. Like something in my head went 'alright, if he's not suffering 24/7 maybe I don't have to.'"

"I'm still suffering." Finn said defensively. Dave gave him a funny look, and he reminded himself that Dave didn't know how he probably _should_ be suffering.

"All the time?" Dave asked, sounding a bit upset. "You seemed ok before- you seem ok now."

Finn scratched his head. "No, you're right, I'm not suffering all the time. I don't think I could stand to be alive if I was."

"I guess most people feel like life basically sucks, all the time, huh?" Dave muttered.

Finn looked at him. He thought back to earlier in the day. "Maybe. I mean, maybe that's how you feel sometimes, like things are always bad." He looked out at the field, putting his hands in his pockets. "But there are other moments when you know that's not true."

Dave raised his eyebrows. "Like what?"

"Well...like moments where you think 'even though things seem to suck most of the time, maybe they won't always.'" He shrugged. "Those moments, when things don't seem to suck so much- when things are actually pretty good, I think those give you something to look for. Some hope I guess."

"What do you consider a pretty good moment?" Dave asked, looking over at Sam who currently being tackled to the ground by Tina as she tried to get the ball from him.

"This, I think." He said, smiling a little. "No one said they have to be anything special- usually they're not. Playing football on a summer afternoon, spending an afternoon roleplaying cheesy erotic novels, just being around the person you might be falling in love with- it's all pretty good, isn't it?"

Dave smiled, still staring at Sam. "That's nice."

Finn nodded. "I think so, too."

Rachel had joined Tina and Sam now, and Tina gave her the ball in a smooth underhand pass. Rachel did a small dance when she caught it. While she was dancing, Sam snuck up behind her and took the ball the away. He grinned cockily at her, and she and Tina exchanged glances for a moment before charging him.

Finn thought again about his afternoon, crying on the floor of Kurt's room. He thought about what he'd said to his mother, about owing it to Kurt to die. It was funny how things like that seemed so true in the moment, and it's only until you find yourself in one of those pretty good moments that you can recognize the lie.

He supposed he'd never really have an answer as to what he owed to Kurt- he wasn't sure there was any kind of code of conduct for a situation like this. All he knew was that he was going to spend the rest of his life trying to figure out a way, if there was any, to redeem himself. There might not be, he knew that- knew that there probably wasn't...but he thought if anything, he owed it to Kurt to try.

Life was always going to be full of heartache and pain, there was no denying that. There would always be moments where he was crying on the carpet, wishing he was dead. But as long as he wasn't, there would always be other moments with football, and friends, and cheesy love poems.

He put his arm around Dave, and they began walking over to where their friends had collapsed under the goal post, exhausted.

He smiled. "You know, even when things are terrible, and you feel like everything is always gonna be horrible, you just tell yourself to get through it, because another pretty good moment could be just around the corner."


	31. Chapter 28: Kurt

Chapter 28: Kurt

Running. He was running. Running so fast and so hard he was _sure _his legs were going to give at any moment. He clutched the thing in his arms tighter to his chest, and pushed forward. He couldn't stop . _He _was behind him, and Kurt was determined to not let him catch up. Not again.

He heard a noise just behind him, and with a jolt realized he wasn't as far ahead as he'd hoped. It was over now, he was going to get caught. He knew it, but he was still running just as hard as ever when the other body slammed into him, knocking him off his feet with an utterly inelegant "_Arrgh!_"

The thing he'd been holding fell away as he put his hands out to break his fall. He couldn't even care though, because he could practically _feel _the grass stains on the shirt he's wearing. It wasn't his shirt, but still. It was the principle of the matter.

The body that knocked him over was still holding onto him, pining him to the ground and _obviously _not caring about the grass stains even though it was _his _shirt. Kurt wiggled around on the ground, trying to get free. "Arrgh Blaine!" He repeated, trying to push him off. "Come on you got the ball from me, get off."

Blaine grinned at Kurt, before promptly lying down on him. He continued to grin at him like a dope, and Kurt gave in and pushed them over so he was lying on top of Blaine. "You're _never _going to get these stains out now." Kurt mumbled, placing a hand on the side of Blaine's face as he kissed him. Blaine seemed unconcerned.

As they wrestled on the ground, Blaine's cousin Damien ran up to where the football lay forgotten on the grass, and snatched it up. "Kurt, I got it!" He cheered, and Kurt gave him a thumbs up as he and Blaine continued to kiss. Damien rushed over to the end zone (which had moved around a lot, due to 5 and 6 year olds Brad and Jenny playing with the pylons that marked it).

Across the field, Tony and Breenie swore. "Ah no fair!" Tony called, as Damien did a victory dance. "Come on, look at that!" He said, pointing to Kurt and Blaine, still lying on the ground. They were both sweaty and covered in grass and dirt stains, but Kurt couldn't remember a time when he'd felt so good.

"I call yellow card!" Breenie shouted, trying not to grin at Blaine. It was good he'd found someone who he could be stupid around. It was a nice change from his usual stupidness, which came from trying to pretend he was so much more _mature _and _put-together _than them. Now she and Mel just needed to fine tune their plan to kidnap and destroythat gunk he put in his hair, and they might have someone semi respectable for a cousin.

"You're not the Ref, Sabrina." Vin pointed out, from his position on the side-lines. He had his dumb note-book with him, and she'd be willing to bet money he was writing a million pages _whining _about how it was _so hard_ being a boy who didn't like football. She wished her brother was more interesting- she barely even bothered to read his stupid notebook anymore.

"She probably should be." Melissa commented, helping their Mom's set up for lunch. "'Cause I don't think Viv's paying attention."

"No-ope." Viv said, not looking up from her cell-phone.

Kurt smiled, listening to the interactions going on around him and Blaine. They should stop. They should get back to the game. They should be caring about football and other people right now. They really should.

"Uh, I think the game's over anyway." He heard another of Blaine's cousins, Benny, say. Blaine insisted that Kurt did in fact meet Benny at the reunion, but for the life of him Kurt had no memory of the freckled 15 year old.

"Ah why!" Breenie pouted.

"'Cause we both just lost a quarter of our team?"

"Make that a half!" Damien called. "They just brought out ice-cream and I am _done!_"

Breenie threw her hands up in the air. "Everyone in this family sucks."

"No, just Blaine." Damien said, his mouth already fully of ice-cream. "Heh, get it? 'Cause he's gay."

"Ignore it." Kurt mumbled, even though he knew Blaine wouldn't.

"I could..." Blaine mused, before springing up suddenly and charging towards Damien, who shrieked. Kurt sighed, propping himself up on his forearms and watching Blaine chase his cousin around the tables that had been set up outside.

"Mom! Mom Blaine's trying to infect me with his gayness!" Damien cried, knocking chairs over as his ran to attempt to slow Blaine down.

"That's nice dear." Blaine's mother said, sitting down with a cup of coffee.

Damien's chair-knocking-over tactic worked well, because good boy that he was, Blaine had stopped to pick up the chairs and put them back before resuming his chase. By then Damien was no where to be found.

"You'll get him later." Kurt said, getting up and jogging over to his boyfriend. "When he's sleeping."

Blaine nodded. "Good plan."

"Kids, if your game is over do you think you could go get cleaned up for lunch?" Blaine's mother asked. "And just burn your clothes, there's no point trying to wash them."

"Told you so." Kurt muttered. Blaine shrugged, and they filed inside along with Tony, Benny and Breenie.

When the got to the stairs, Blaine suddenly put on a burst of speed and bolted up. "Dibs showering first!" He shouted.

"No fair!" Kurt called, chasing him up. "I wasn't ready. You can't call dibs when I wasn't ready."

* * *

Kurt lay on his stomach on Blaine's bed in a fluffy white bathrobe and flipped through the latest issue of Vogue. It hadn't taken very much to convince Blaine to let him shower first; a trembling lip, some big puppy dog eyes, and Blaine was puddy in his hands. He'd showered as quickly as possible, and he thought his father would be quite pleased to know that he'd managed to be in and out in 20 minutes, a record for him. He thought he might try to talk to him about unrevoking his shower privileges- although he had actually become quite fond of baths now. Still, it would be nice to have the option.

Kurt looked up as he heard a low buzzing noise sound from across the room. A moment later, "Analyze" by the Cranberries began to play, and Kurt hopped off to bed to get his cellphone.

"Hello?"

"Kurt?" A frantic sounding voice said. "Is that you? Kurt?"

"Uh, yeah, it's me." Kurt said, trying to place the familiar voice. Whoever it was he sounded panicked.

"I need help. Advice. The cavalierly. To be resuscitated." The voice rambled, and then clicked into place for Kurt. _Ah, of course. _

"George, what's wrong?" Kurt asked, lying back down on Blaine's bed.

"Me! I'm wrong! I'm panicking, can you not tell?" George practically shouted into the phone. "Is the desperate manner of my voice not evidence of my panic?"

"Yes George, I can tell that you're panicking." Kurt said calmly. "What I'm asking is _why._"

"Oh. Right. Why." George said, quieter now. "Alright, well last week Paige was upgraded to out-patient status, and she came to visit me today-"

"Really? Wow, good for her! Is she with you now?"

"Uh, well she's in my house right now, but I've gone into another room."

"Why? Don't you like Paige?" Kurt asked, flipping his magazine back open.

"Yes, I do. A lot. That's why I'm panicking." George explained. "We've never been alone before like this. I mean, we've talked before, just the two of us...but at the bin there were always other people around. Michael would be watching TV, Finn would be bugging Michael, Patricia would be laughing in a corner...it just seemed to take some of the pressure off."

Kurt was about to respond when he heard the creaking sound of a door being opened, and then a girls voice. "George? You in here?"

"Uhh-" George said.

"You ya talkin' to?"

"Uhh...who is this?" George asked, sounding a bit robotic.

"Kurt, you idiot." Kurt said, rolling his eyes. _Boys.._

"It's Kurt." George repeated.

"Ooh!" Paige exclaimed. "Can I talk to him?"

A second later, Paige's voice appeared in the phone. "Hi Kurt!"

Kurt smiled. "Hey there Paige. What are you doing to George?"

"I swear I don't know. I just asked to see his room and then he ran away, and I looked for him and now here we are."

Kurt laughed. "He's got to be one of the most awkward people in existence."

"Yeah, but in like a super adorable kind of way." Paige added. "But I mean, it can't go on forever like this. We need to be able to hang out and stuff, since he's kind of like my boyfriend-"

From somewhere behind Paige, there was a loud crashing sound, and Paige gasped. "George!" She exclaimed.

"What happened?" Kurt asked.

"I don't know- I think he fainted or something." Paige said, sounding frantic. "Oh my god I completely killed him. Oh no!"

Kurt put his fist against his mouth, trying not to laugh, but it was just too easy to picture. He moved the phone away for a moment, and bowed his head in a fit of silent giggles.

"Kurt? Kurt whaddo I do?" Paige's voice asked, and he picked the phone back up.

"I don't know, Paige. Try giving him a kiss or something. That should wake him up." _Or really kill him..._

There was silence from the other end for a few minutes, and then Kurt heard scrambling sounds and rustling. A moment later, Paige returned to the phone, sounding breathless. "Yeahthatworked, thanks Kurt, Igottago!" She hurried, then hung up before he could say goodbye.

He stared at the phone for a moment, trying to figure out what had just happened.

From inside the bathroom, Kurt heard the shower turn off and a minute later, Blaine came out in a towel. Kurt grinned. "Hi there."

Blaine blushed. "Hi...you're still in your robe."

Kurt looked down. "Yeah, I am." He smiled at him.

"Uh- why?" He asked, grabbing another towel from on top of his dresser and drying off his arms and torso.

Kurt sat up, and slid his legs off the bed. "Why do you think?" He asked coyly, standing up and walking towards Blaine.

Blaine gulped, wearing an expression that told Kurt that he wasn't doing much thinking at the moment. Kurt took the towel from his hands and tossed it aside, then let his hands drift over Blaine's chest, and down to where the other towel still hung around his hips.

"I- um...my family's outside." Blaine said quietly.

"Exactly. Your family is _outside_. In the backyard." Kurt said, circling Blaine's waist with his arms. "So _technically _we have the house to ourselves."

He brushed his lips lightly over Blaine's for a moment, before settling them firmly against him and giving him a deep kiss.

"Are you sure?" Blaine asked, as they moved slowly over to the bed together.

Kurt nodded, tilting his head to the side and kissing Blaine softly, but quickly. "Mmhmm," He murdered. "Now's the perfect time." He said, pausing for a moment and looking at his boyfriend. "It's been two weeks since we talked about everything I needed to do, and now it's all done. I talked to Claudia, I told Mercedes...I saw Finn." He put his hand on Blaine's cheek. "And now, I want to commemorate the next part of my life, hopefully a far less dramatic one, by having a first normal sexual experience with my boyfriend, whom I love very much."

Blaine smiled. "I love you very much, too."

Kurt put his finger on Blaine's chest, and trailed it down to his stomach. "Do you have...?"

Blaine nodded quickly. "Uh, yeah, hold on." He said. He got up off the bed, holding onto the towel to make sure it stayed around his waist. He opened his closet and reached for a bag he'd buried far, _far _in the back. He went back over the bed, and handed the bag to Kurt, his face bright red. "Please don't laugh."

Kurt's eyes went wide. "What on earth is '_Naughties_', Blaine?" He opened the bag up, and pulled out a long line of condoms. "Oh, look, they come in technicolour."

"There are regular ones in there too!" Blaine insisted, thinking he should probably just go die somewhere quietly.

Kurt chucked a little, and pulled Blaine back onto the bed with him. "Blaine, sweetie, _why _did you go to a sex shop for this stuff? They have them at pharmacies, you know."

"I was trying to think outside the box." Blaine said, giving him a pathetic look. "I actually bought this stuff a while ago, for our romantic weekend- just to cover every base. But my friend Abbie suggested I leave it for a later date. I had to agree..." He said, watching Kurt pull more things out of the bag, including a bright blue bottle of lubricant. "Except now I'm thinking I should have just left it for never, and burned the evidence."

Kurt tilted his head to the side. "Hmm, Blue Raspberry flavoured." He read. He glanced at Blaine, who looked about ready to die. "Nice choice."

"I don't even know why they bother to flavour lubrication." Blaine confessed. He fiddled with the bottom of his towel. "It's not for eating, is it?"

Kurt pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh. "Oh...no, it's not for eating, but um...well..." He paused, attempting to figure out where he was going with this. "I'm sure it will be made clear, practically, at some point."

Blaine frowned, and ducked his head a bit. "I'm really nervous, Kurt." Blaine said quietly. "I've got no idea what I'm supposed to do, or how this is supposed to happen or-"

Kurt smiled, and look Blaine's hand in his. "Me too," He whispered. Blaine looked up, surprised. "I'm _so _nervous, you have no idea."

"Really?" Blaine asked, looking relieved.

Kurt nodded. "I don't know what to do, or how I'm supposed to act or anything! And I have this like, recurring nightmare where we're in the middle of it, and it's really slow and sweet...and then I burp."

Blaine laughed. "What?"

Kurt smiled shyly. "It's not funny!" He insisted, even though he was laughing a bit too. "It's completely awful."

"Kurt," Blaine said, still laughing. He put a hand on his cheek. "I don't think I've _ever _heard you burp."

"That's because I _don't_." Kurt said. "Maybe once every 6 months or something- but then when I do, it's like this tiny little hiccup noise. But not in this nightmare, oh no! This is a loud, icky _man's _burp."

Blaine laughed harder, letting his head fall against Kurt's shoulder. "Oh god, that's so funny."

"I'm glad you think so, because I'm mortified." Kurt said, resting his hand on the back of Blaine's neck. He massaged his nape a bit, and Blaine lifted his head up and looked at him.

"Don't be, I'd probably be a lot less nervous if you did." Blaine teased. He leaned in and kissed him, still fighting back a smile.

"Well forgive me if I still hope I don't," Kurt murmured, smiling back against Blaine's lips.

Together, they leaned back on the bed, their kisses growing more intense. Beside him, Blaine groped for the stuff he'd bought, turning his head away temporarily to get at it.

"Are we going to use the Blue Raspberry?" Kurt asked, trailing kisses along Blaine's neck.

"No," Blaine grumbled, blushing again. "I bought other stuff- _non-flavoured _stuff."

Kurt giggled. "Why did you get both?"

Blaine shrugged, and tossed the rest of the bag off the bed, having found what he was looking for. "This stuff says it's...uh, specifically designed for...for you know, what we're gonna use it for..."

Kurt snorted a bit, and fixed Blaine with a patronizing look. "Blaine sweetie, have you ever heard the expression 'if you can't say it, you shouldn't be doing it?'"

Blaine stuck his tongue out at him. "Yes Kurt, I have heard that expression." He put his hand on back of Kurt's head, bring him towards him again. "And I'm choosing to blatantly disregard it."

Kurt grinned, and moved his hands down Blaine's chest again, to the towel at his hips. "If you insist..." He murmured, pulling the towel off and tossing it away. He could feel Blaine giving an embarrassed smile as they kissed, and he began to pull at his own robe. Blaine pushed him onto his back, kissing his neck as he undid the tie around Kurt's waist, and the robe fell open. He shivered as Blaine ran his fingers all along his body, and gasped as his hand slipped firmly between his thighs.

"Alright, so I have done some research on this...so I do know what's _supposed _to be done," Blaine mumbled. "But uh, as far as _execution _goes, you'll have to bear with me."

Kurt laughed, and covered his mouth with his hand. "Oh lord, it sounds like you're giving a presentation to your economics class." He sat up a bit, and removed his robe the rest of the way. Then he lay back down, and pressed himself against Blaine. "Calm down, ok? We'll figure this out together," He smiled reassuringly, and Blaine nodded. "No matter how awkward it is."

Blaine smiled. He held up the bottle of lubricant to Kurt. "So um, what do I do with this?"

Kurt giggled, biting on his lip. "You put it on your fingers."

Blaine nodded. "Right- see, I did know that." He said. His hands shook a bit and he removed the cap and followed Kurt's instruction, and lowered his hand back between Kurt's thighs.

"You ready?" Blaine asked, kissing Kurt's ear. Kurt nodded, and he felt Blaine begin to ease inside of him. His hand flew up and he held onto the back of Blaine's neck, the gentleness of Blaine's touch a complete shock to his system. Blaine paused. "Are you ok? Should I stop-"

Kurt just pulled Blaine's lips against in his own in response, giving him a long, deep kiss. "Nuh-uh," He whispered, moving his lips against Blaine's ear.

Blaine blushed, and continued what he was doing and wishing he'd done a lot more research about this. Sure he knew the mechanics of it, but not a single website or pamphlet had told him how he was supposed to _remember _everything when his boyfriend was making the most beautiful _whining _sounds, and dear god he was actually _inside _him and he was so _warm _and so ti-

"Oh god," Blaine muttered, snapping himself out of his thoughts.

"What?" Kurt asked, feeling Blaine's fingers slip out of him.

"Nothing, nothing." Blaine said, shaking his head. "I just almost- never mind."

Kurt laughed and wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck. "I think...I mean, I'm..." He blushed, "You know."

Blaine nodded, and reached from the condom he'd chosen. He felt calmer, with Kurt's arms around him. It was a reminder that they were in this together.

Kurt handed him the bottle of lubrication again, giggling nervously. He was watching what Blaine was doing, and Blaine smiled nervously, blushing again.

"Stop _staring,_" He whispered, laughing.

Kurt gave him a guilty smile. "Sorry, I can't help it."

"Liar," he muttered, leaning into kiss him. Kurt's arms tightened around his neck, and he gently pushed Kurt's thighs, moving in between him.

Kurt looked up at his boyfriend, his eyes wide. "I love you," He whispered, hardly able to believe there could be so much feelings and emotion behind three simple words. He felt so much for Blaine, so much love and gratitude, longing and desire- so much of it all, and yet the english language hold only equipped him with three little words to express it all in.

Blaine smiled down at him, holding him securely in his arms. "I love you too, Kurt." He whispered back.

_He knows, _Kurt thought. He could hear it in Blaine's voice. He knew exactly what Kurt meant when he said "I love you," because he felt it too. All of it.

Kurt tilted his head back a bit, and a beautiful smile spread widely across his lips as Blaine moved into him for the first time.

* * *

The bedroom door creaked open, and Breenie peered inside. She looked back at Melissa. "It's super dark," She whispered.

"Why?" Melissa whispered back. "Are they sleeping?"

"Why are we whispering?" Vin asked.

"'Cause Kurt and Blaine are sleeping!" Breenie hissed.

"_That's _what they've been doing all afternoon?"

"I guess," Melissa replied. "We should get them up for dinner."

Breenie nodded, and pushed the door open the rest of the way. Slowly, the three of them crept inside, being as quiet as possible. They froze when their eyes fell upon their sleeping cousin and his boyfriend.

"Oh, merciful Zeus..." Melissa whispered.

Breenie's eyes went wide. "They totally _did _it."

The sheets were wrapped around their hips, the covers tossed off the bed. Kurt's back was pressed against Blaine's chest, and Blaine was kissing Kurt's shoulder in his sleep, his arms wrapped tightly around him. They both had small smiles on their faces.

Vin gulped, staring hard at Kurt. His hair was messy, and had fallen into his eyes. His lips were parted slightly, and he breathed through his mouth. Vin watched his chest move up and down, and wished he had his notebook with him.

"I like guys." He blurted suddenly. He clapped his hands over his mouth.

Melissa snorted. "Yeah we know."

"What?"

"I read it in your dumb notebook like last year," Breenie said, rolling her eyes.

"_What?_"

"_'Dear dumb notebook,'_" Breenie recited. "'_I super don't want to be gay, because everyone is going think I'm copying Blaine! They already make fun of me for hating sports and being a big suck- what do I do?'_"

"I didn't say- well I didn't say it like _that_..." He muttered.

Blaine made a noise in his sleep, and the three of them jumped. They exchanged glances, and shuffled out of the room, closing the door behind them.

Kurt smiled, keeping his eyes closed even after they'd left. He'd had a feeling about Vin. Blaine sighed again, and Kurt finally opened his eyes, and looked into the darkness of the room around him. He glanced at the sleeping boy next to him, slowly wiggled out of his arms, and headed into the washroom.

He closed the door and flicked on the lights, squinting a bit as his struggled to adjust. He forced them open, his eyes burning as the harsh bathroom light invaded his widened pupils. Eventually, the pain was too much and he snapped them closed, pressing his palm against his closed lips and seeing stars. After a moment, he opened them again and looked at himself in the mirror.

The person staring back at him wasn't someone he recognized. For the past year, the mirror had always held the same reflection in it, the reflection of a skinny, pale boy with circles under his eyes. If he stood naked, as he was now, the reflection had scars on it- thin white lines dragged across his chest, thick red gashes where the skin was still growing back after being rubbed off over and over again. The place between his legs was bruised, and scratched, covered in self-inflicted wounds- sick to look at it.

But now, that reflection and the person it represented were nowhere to be found.

He thought back, back to another life time- another reflection. He remembered the reflection of another skinny, pale boy- this one with flawless skin, not a mark to be seen anywhere. He never stood naked in front of the mirror, hardly ever even shirtless. He was too shy, even alone. This reflection had perfect hair, meticulously combed and sprayed until it managed to meet his high expectations for it. The reflection had had a piercing gaze- cool blue and grey, strong and determined. But behind those blue eyes, there had been fear. Insecurity. Loneliness. He'd hidden it, with sarcasm and bitchiness and an perfectionists attitude, but it had been there. He'd hidden from it, but no matter what it had always been reflected back at him, every time he looked in the mirror.

This reflection was neither of those people- this was someone new.

The person in the mirror had dishevelled hair, the result of letting it air dry without any product in it to give it structure. His cheeks were tinged red from being out in the sun all day. There were scars- the remnants of wounds healed as much as they could- no longer painful, but still visible, if only slightly.

He smiled, and it fit. It was honest. This new person, whomever they were- they looked happy. He looked closely at the reflection, and brought his hand up to his hair, neatening it up a bit. He smoothed it down flat, brushing his bangs off his forehead. He smiled again. Alright, he could see it now.

This person was him. The person reflected was him- who he was now, who he'd been all year, who he'd been before. They were all the same person, and they were him.

It had been a struggle, and it always would be- but through the pain, the blood, the tears...through the hurt, he'd somehow managed to reconcile himself. Each part of him, the hurt and the scared parts, the sarcastic and the brave, it all made him who he was now.

He may not have been perfect and complete- he knew that like the scars on his body, there would always been cracks in him, the proof of how he'd once been shattered into a million pieces. But it didn't matter. It didn't matter, because he was together again. He didn't need to be perfect, or complete. He was more then that; he was unbroken.

And more then it all, he was happy.

* * *

**A/N: I'd say "The End," but I've always believed that no story ever truly ends, and that the lives of the characters go on even after they'd stopped being written. Instead I'll say "Thank You," to everyone who's read this story, everyone who contacted me and told me what it meant to them. I had no idea what it was going to be when I started writing it, and if it wasn't for all of you I most likely would have given up the first time I hit a block (or the second, or the third or fourth...)**

**Thank You. **


	32. Bonus Chapter!

**A/N: Right so this is a super weird bonus chapter! Consider this a bunch of random, deleted scenes that I wrote and had to take out for pacing reasons, or because they kind of led no where. It's entirely filler, and sometimes cute.**

* * *

**Setting: Sometime before George left.**

"It's a monkey."

"No, it's a seahorse."

"Look at its head, it is so a monkey."

"I am telling you, it's a seahorse."

"You cannot look at those ears and not see a monkey!" Finn insisted. He and George had been arguing over what Paige was currently drawing for the past 10 minutes, standing on either side of her. Finn wasn't sure if she was ignoring them, or if she was off in some far away Paige land, but he really wished she would throw him a bone already, and just tell George that she was drawing a monkey.

"Just because it has a few characteristics that appear simian, does not make that its species. For example, I have often thought that you looked like a lemur, but I know that you're not actually one."

Finn stared at him. "What the fuck is a simian? I said monkey!"

"Simian means monkey dumb ass." Michael called over from the couch.

"Mind your own business." Finn shot back.

"Nothin' goods on." He grumbled, changing the channel.

"Paige," George said, "Please tell your mentally incapacitated bodyguard that he is wrong."

"It's a sea-monkey." Paige said, adding seaweed to the picture.

"Hah!" Finn and George said at the same time. Then they looked confused. "Wait, what?"

"Sea-monkey." She repeated. "Like you buy 'em in a box and add water and they live in an aquarium but really your mom just waisted 7 dollars because they don't exist."

"I had sea-monkey's when I was little..." Finn said. "My mom just said they were shy."

"Sea monkey's are actually brine shrimp." George said. "They don't look like that."

"Maybe they do, but they're too small to tell." Paige said.

"They don't. We studied them in science class. They look like shrimp." He said.

"I'm applying my imagination." Paige replied.

George nodded. "I don't have one of those. My body rejected it when I was 10, and they had to surgically remove it through my pancreas."

Paige stopped drawing and looked up. "Did you just make a joke?"

George smiled, and shrugged. "It's possible."

Finn stared at the drawing for a minute. "I still just see a monkey."

* * *

**Setting: I dunno, anytime.**

"You know, I've never understood cheerleaders." Blaine said. They were watching a football game together, and it was half time. The cheerleaders were dancing around and waving their sparkly pom-poms in the air. "Seriously, what is the point of this?"

"I believe the point is to cheer." Kurt said.

Blaine rolled his eye. "I know that. But why? The crowd cheers, it's not like the players need the self esteem boost."

"I used to be a cheerleader." Kurt said.

"What?"

"I was on the Cheerios for a while last year, and I really liked it. Mercedes and I would sing during the performances...it was fun." He said.

Blaine considered this. "Interesting..." He watched the cheerleaders jumping around on screen and looked at Kurt. "I'm beginning to see how that could appeal to people now."

Kurt smirked and kissed him. "And you should see how high I can kick my leg now, thanks to Sue's intensive training."

Blaine frowned. "Wow...I'm suddenly legitimately upset that Dalton doesn't have cheerleaders." He said.

"Right, because if there's anything Dalton needs to make it even gayer, it's male cheerleaders."

* * *

**Setting: When Mercedes first goes to see Kurt again, at Blaine's urging. She originally addressed Blaine as "Gay-Potter," but I believed I changed it to "Curly-Sue." **

Kurt laughed and stepped out of the hug too. "Gay-Potter?"

Mercedes shrugged. "Dalton is Gay Hogwarts, and so Blaine is Gay-Potter."

"It's true." Blaine said solemnly. "I am."

Kurt laughed again, shutting the door behind Mercedes and ushering her into the house. "What does that make me?"

"Ron." Blaine said.

"Malfoy." Mercedes said, speaking at the same time as Blaine. They looked at each other. "Um, please, Draco so had it going on for Harry."

"No way, he and Ron had a total thing for each other." Blaine insisted.

"There relationship was nothing but platonic." Kurt said. "I'll be Draco. Not big on the hair though..."

"Hah!" Mercedes said, sitting down triumphantly on the couch.

* * *

**Setting: Lunch, a few days after their "romantic weekend."**

Blaine reached into his backpack for his lunch, and Kurt heard something inside it make a beeping noise. Blaine looked surprised for a moment, before reaching in and pulling out his cell phone. "Weird." He said, looking at it. "I have a text message."

Kurt smiled. "Why exactly is that weird?"

Blaine shrugged, checking the message. "It's not, I guess...I just don't usually get texts during school. And most of my texts are from you, but you're with me so I assume it's not you…"

"Maybe it is. I'm wily." He said with a shrug.

Blaine grinned and shook his head. "It's from Abbie." He said, beginning to send a reply. "She says she hates me."

Nick and Jeff's eyes went wide. "Abbie a girl?" They asked together. Kurt laughed and Blaine nodded.

"Why does she hate you?" Kurt asked.

"I'm asking that now." He said, finishing his reply and putting his phone down.

"Maybe it's because she knows that you've been holding out on introducing her to her soulmate." Nick said.

"Is that you or Jeff you're referring to?" Kurt asked.

Nick shrugged. "I can live through his relationship so either one is good."

Jeff smiled. "Cool."

Blaine's phone beeped again and he checked the message and laughed. "Ok, so have I mentioned that Abbie is sort of a socially awkward person?" He asked.

"No, but the whole 'she spilled coffee on me and touched my crotch trying to clean it up, then ran' story sort of implies it." Jeff said.

"Right. Well, I told her that maybe she should make an effort to be more social. You know, smile a little more...talk to people and such." Jeff stared at him blankly. "Right...well it seems she took my advice, and has now been invited to a party. Thus the hate."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Nick asked. "Being invited to a party...parties seem cool. I bet parties are cool."

"Not if you're Abbie."

"Or me." Jeff said. "I hate parties."

"Ever been to one?" Nick asked.

Jeff was quiet for a moment. "Well I bet I hate them."

* * *

**Setting: Right before they totally do it, in the last chapter, when Kurt is telling Blaine that he's nervous too.**

"I was so nervous, I actually went to my Dad for advice." Kurt admitted.

Blaine laughed. "You're kidding. You mean you actually initiated the sex talk?" Kurt shrugged, and Blaine put a hand on his shoulder. "Kurt Hummel, you are by far the bravest man I have ever met."

"Let me guess, you ran away screaming from your dad?"

"Uh, no." Blaine said, giving an obviously fake laugh. "Tony gave me the talk."

Kurt raised his eyebrows. "And how did that go?"

Blaine chewed his lip. "Uh, well I was 13 when he did it, and at first he sat me down and tried to talk to me about sex with um, girls." He made a face. "So that was when I told him I was pretty sure I was gay."

"Fun stuff."

"Yeah. So, I told him that and he just sort of left." Blaine shrugged. "Naturally I assumed he was rejecting me, but then he came back about three days later and was like 'alright, I've done some research, and you can still have sex.'" Kurt snorted a bit, and Blaine grinned. "And then he proceeded to explain gay sex to me, and I cried."

"Oh!" Kurt exclaimed, putting a hand on Blaine's cheek. "Poor baby."

He nodded. "It was a shocking thing to learn. I vowed then I would never, ever do that. Ever."

Kurt smiled coyly. "When did you change your mind?"

"'Bout a year later, when I discovered porn."

* * *

**Setting: Sometimes after George has left, when Marcel and Michael are together. Not that they're important in this scene, it's just how I organize my time-line.**

"Finn! Finn!" Paige hissed, running over to where Finn was reading a comic book. She tugged on his arm. "Finn!"

"Whaaaat?"

"You have to come see!" She whispered excitedly. "It's brilliant."

"Paige, we've been over this-" He said, shutting his comic. "There is nothing that Hannah Montana will ever say or do that I will think is brilliant."

She shook her head. "No no, it's nothing on TV- but I will have you know that all of Hannah Montana is a brilliant metaphor for the struggle that all adolescent girls go through as they begin to mature into the adult stages of their life, attempting to balance the comforts of their childhood with the responsibility of adulthood, and the push and pull to be a new person."

Finn sighed. "What do you want."

She tugged on his arm again. "Come look!" She said, and he let her drag him up and down the hall.

"Where are we going?"

"The break room." She replied.

"Um, why?" He asked. The break room was for people who worked at the hospital- orderlies, nurses, doctors. He'd never even seen it.

"'Cause of reasons." She said.

They reached the break room, and Paige put her finger to her lips, gesturing that he should be quiet. Slowly, she opened the door a crack and peaked inside. Finn stood behind her, and peered in over the top of Paige's head. He put a fist to his mouth, stifling a chuckle.

Sheila was asleep on the couch, clutching a pink care bear tightly in her sleep. She cuddled against it, wearing a peaceful look on her face that Finn wouldn't have thought possible.

"Oh my god..." Finn whispered. He smiled down at Paige. "You're right, this is brilliant."

She beamed.

* * *

**Another poem I wrote, as Kurt, for Finn to find. But I decided to go with the other one.**

Hello, from a broken flower lying in the dirt

If I lie any longer I am sure to die

So won't someone pick me up, and take me away from here?

No one comes.

Apathy and hate grow around my broken stem

Misery is my dirty bed

Ever to lie there, broken and bruised

I give up, I long to die.

Sudden is the change.

Beauty finds me, picks me up.

Life could surely not allow it?

Apathy will not let me leave.

I struggle to die; beauty makes me live.

Not without him could I have become

Everything he let me be.

(Goodbye From a Beautiful Flower standing in the Dirt)

Both poems are acrostics.

* * *

**Well, that's all! Hope a few of you enjoyed these outtakes. If you're interested in more stuff in this universe, once again I have a story about Marcel, that is currently set in the bin. It starts off before, but it works its way up to it. It has appearances from Finn and Paige, as well as introducing you more to the characters of Lina and Michael. If you miss the darkness of Lover's Tale, you'll be going to the right place (for the first half of the story anyways)!**


End file.
